


Counseling Justice

by Plums



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Family Feels, Multi, Persona 5: The Royal Spoilers, Post-Canon, Sisters, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-02-23 00:09:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 68,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23869228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plums/pseuds/Plums
Summary: SPOILERS FOR PERSONA 5 ROYALNearly five months after her graduation from Shujin Academy, Makoto Niijima is enjoying summer vacation with her partner, Ren Amamiya. As they reminisce, Makoto's lingering scars from the past call into question her seemingly restored relationship with her older sister, Sae Niijima.Resolving to amend their conflict once and for all, Makoto approaches Sae with a request for family counseling.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Niijima Makoto & Niijima Sae, Niijima Makoto/Persona 5 Protagonist, Suzui Shiho/Takamaki Ann
Comments: 86
Kudos: 193





	1. Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> Updates once month for the moment!
> 
> This is my first real foray into Persona fic, and my first long-running fic. It was inspired by a late game Mementos mission new to Persona 5 Royal, that gave me the impression that things between Makoto and Sae were not as perfect as they seemed in the aftermath of Sae's Palace. The text exchange between Ren and Makoto is directly taken from the after-mission texts they exchange in-game. Makoto's struggles really spoke to me during her introduction, and I wanted to explore more of her and Sae's dynamic and how it could become healthier/how Makoto can overcome what reads increasingly like trauma from Sae's verbal/emotional abuse of her in early P5.
> 
> I went with family therapy since that's what I went to school for, and let's be real: every single one of these kids needs a therapist.

**WEDNESDAY, JULY 26TH, 2017**

**Evening** /  **Makoto’s Apartment**

For Makoto Niijima, there were three fundamental truths to this moment in her life.

  1. She was truly, genuinely, the happiest she has ever been in _many_ years. Sometimes, she thought of how different she had been only one year before. The meek, "pushover" trodden over again and again for the sake of a future others were all but willing to force on her. Of the tribulations she endured as one of the Phantom Thieves of Hearts, and how she came out the other side as a stronger, more assured version of herself. The type of person her father had been.
  2. She was no longer alone. Ever since her father died, and her sister lost her sense of self in surviving work, Makoto was left to fend for herself. Moments of vulnerability were weakness. "I love yous" were nothing more than a hastily written line on her birthday card, if her sister could even remember during the year. She had gone through school friendless and seemed prime to die as she lived: alone. But that all changed when she became a Phantom Thief, when she built bonds forged in blood, in mutual loss and triumph, in love, and in standing up to abuse wherever it spread its awful wings.
  3. And, last but certainly not least, her boyfriend, Ren Amamiya, was the love of her life. Dauntless leader of the Phantom Thieves of Heart, Trickster Chosen by the Velvet Room, The Wild Card, The God-Slayer, The Reality Changer, The Hero of Justice, was currently asleep, drooling all over her shoulder on the couch. And she normally wouldn't have it any other way. However,…



Makoto smirked as she jerked her shoulder back. Ren jumped, startled, his glasses nearly falling from his face. He blinked rapidly, then turned to face her, the bottom of his chin coated entirely in drool. Makoto pressed the pause button on the remote, stopping the Yakuza film as Ren let out a quick yawn.

"Sorry about that…" he said, giving her a sheepish grin. As if by instinct, her cheeks instantly reddened. It was honestly criminal how he still had this effect after slobbering all over her!

"For the movie, or my shoulder?" Makoto teased, showing off the evidence, the shirt exposing her shoulder. She had long taken to "borrowing" some of his shirts as pajamas, given their length meaning she would not need to worry about pants. More importantly, this was her chance to get the one-up on him. He had always been a rather smooth talker. Futaba often joked he had "maxed his charm stat early," whatever that meant. But here, in this moment, was _her_ chance to get a blush out of _him_. She had done it before, of course, though mainly through their physical trysts, and hardly through words alone.

Ren's eyes darted to her shoulder. She could see them widen, and the beginnings of a warmth creeping up on his cheeks. _Yes, yes!_ However, as soon as her hopes rose, Ren pressed kisses up her shoulder, and whispered in her ear.

"Allow me to clean up my mess," he said, planting a kiss on the tip of her ear lobe. She shuddered; face completely reddened. _Damn him_. With a smug grin, Ren rose off the couch to the kitchen. Makoto buried her face in her hands, attempting not to die on the spot of embarrassment. She felt the couch shift as Ren returned, and wiped off the drool with a paper towel. She pulled herself from her hands, noticing the bowl of fresh blueberries on the table. She did not even need to look at him to know he was grinning that Joker-smirk that she adored.

Makoto plopped a blueberry in her mouth, pouting at her boyfriend turning the tables on her. Maxed charm, indeed. Ren returned his head to her shoulder, though this time swinging an arm around her waist. Makoto rolled her eyes and scooted closer to him.

"Better?" he asked, eyes closed as he nuzzled her neck. Makoto couldn't help but smile.

"Yes, but perhaps we should leave the movie for another night. I know the trip from your parents' home (Ren was adamant that "that place" was no longer home) was long, you should've told me you were tired." Ren continued to nuzzle her neck.

"Wanted to stay up with you. No sleeping yet. Whole rest of the summer break to sleep."

Makoto giggled, wrapping an arm around him. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"Don’t forget loving, adorable, and Godslayer. Especially adorable." Ren said, a warm smile across his face. Makoto couldn't help but laugh at the "Godlsayer" comment. It had been a meme born on New Years Eve when all their friends, including Sae, Sojiro, Shiho, and Sumire (before she was freed from Maruki's Actualization), had gathered to celebrate the coming year at Leblanc. They had been regaling Sojiro, Sumire, Shiho, and Sae with more in-depth details on their activities as the Phantom Thieves, and just generally reminiscing about all they went through over the year.

* * *

**SATURDAY, DECEMBER 31ST, 2016**

**EVENING** /  **CAFÉ LEBLANC**

"Yo, that Mementos Depths shit was seriously the craziest thing we had to have done." Ryuji was seated near Ann and Shiho. He had come dressed up as Santa Claus for their late gift exchange and brought Santa hats and reindeer noses for each of them. Ann originally objected but relented when Shiho convinced her their couples Christmas card for next year would look even cuter with the bright red noses.

"I must agree," Yusuke began, his pencil swift at work on his sketch pad. He had announced at the beginning wanting to capture the "pure beauty of new love" in drawing Ann & Shiho, and Ren & Makoto. He was seated close to the Sayuri, with a comically large reindeer nose on. His voice sounded nasally. "To think humanity's collective heart could birth such a wretched locale…it was truly disturbing."

Futaba grunted in affirmation, busy clicking away on her laptop as her reindeer horns threatened to fall off of her head. "But we kicked that hack of a False God's butt!" Beside her, Haru giggled, her purple Santa hat sitting loosely on the top of her hair. She had attempted to pull it all the way down, but the floofiness of her hair denied the hat any travel.

"Yes, it was most exhilarating! We _killed_ a god!" Haru clapped in excitement, her bloodlust apparently unaffected by the end of the Metaverse.

"You know," Sojiro began, stopping to try and blow the poof of the Santa hat out of his face as he sat beside Futaba in one of the booths. "I did have questions about that. I'm not religious or anything, but was that god _The God_ or what?"

Sae nodded, hair free of hats or antlers, but a bright green reindeer nose planted on her face courtesy of a lost game of poker with Ren. He hadn't yet faced her, out of fear of her "shooting a nose laser through his skull."

"I was curious about that too. For such a figure to appear, this has to be precedent for other such entities to emerge -- if they haven't already throughout history." Everyone in the room paused for a moment, before Morgana spoke.

"That false god, Yaldabaoth, was a treasure that got so twisted by the public's desire for a life without conflict, that it gained the sentience needed to bring that kind of control over everyone. Since Mementos and the Metaverse are gone, we shouldn't run into anything else like that again…probably."

Sae, Shiho, and Sojiro all exchanged a look.

"You know, even though you've explained this to me, Ann," Shiho began, staring at Morgana, "I still can't believe Morgana can actually, like, talk-talk."

"I can't quite believe it myself," Sae agreed, shaking her head.

"Ugh, damn cat, you know the rest of us can't understand what you're saying," Sojiro said, pouting. Sumire raised a hand, drawing attention to herself.

"Allow me to translate! Morgana-senpai was saying that it should be unlikely for something similar to that god happening again now that the Metaverse is erased." Sumire put a finger to her chin, thinking. "Although, I suppose he did say 'probably'…"

"The kid's right," Sojiro said, pointing over to Ryuji, "the cat really isn't sure about the important things sometimes."

"Ha, told ya furball!" Ryuji gloated. Morgana stared at Sojiro, mouth agape.

"Not you too, Boss?! And I am _NOT_ a-- oh just forget it!" Morgana said, giving the cat approximate of a pout.

Makoto and Ren exchanged a look, their blue and red, respectively, Santa hats twirling with their heads. Makoto cleared her throat.

"Regardless, if this threat should come up again -- and given the erasure of the Metaverse, I daresay it's unlikely, I believe that we've proven humanity is more than up to the task of crushing such entities."

'Yeah that's true," Ann said, cuddling up to her girlfriend. "We did show that Yaldabutt? Yuckybroth? Yodelbreath? _Whatever_! We showed that _asshole_ what humans can do, so lets see one even try us again!" Everyone around the room snickered but nodded in agreement.

"Especially when we got Renren here," Ryuji said, gesturing to Makoto and Ren across the room. They were seated in a booth with Sojiro, Futaba, and Sumire sat in the barstool directly across from them.

"Dude summoned a _GIANT ASS DEMON LORD_ and blew his load right in its _face_!"

"Uh Ryuji, that doesn't mean what you think it does…" Ren said, awkwardly laughing. Beside him Makoto was pinching the bridge of her nose, resisting the urge to throw something at him.

"Ren-kun," Haru began, changing the subject. "Would that not make you a God killer then?" Ren looked at her for a moment.

"I…guess so? I never really thought it over that much."

"Dude, how can you _not_?! If that were me, I'd be using that to introduce myself to everyone," Ryuji said, suddenly standing up. He cleared his throat, before speaking in his best "Renren voice."

"The name's Amamiya. Ren Amamiya. _Godslayer_." Everyone in the room laughed, Ren shaking his head, but clearly amused.

"I guess, but I've already impressed the one person I need to," Ren said, pecking Makoto on the cheek. Her cheeks grew the same color as Ren's hat. He smiled for a moment, before feeling a shiver run up his spine. He didn't need to look to know the patented Niijima Glare was on full-force from Sae.

Suddenly, Futaba cackled. Everyone's heads turned towards her as she finished at her laptop.

"What was that about Futaba?" Sojiro asked, clearly confused. Futaba beckoned him to look at the computer. The moment Sojiro's eyes landed on the screen, he began to laugh in an uproar. Ryuji, Sumire, Ann, Shiho, Haru, and Morgana all gathered around the booth, and burst into laughter.

"Dude, holy _shit_ ," Ryuji began, crying. Ann had fallen into the floor, holding Shiho's leg as she giggled. Shiho was trying to keep her composure, but quickly failing. Sumire held onto Morgana as both laughed. Even Haru was chuckling and burst out cackling the moment she looked at Ren.

Ren sighed at Futaba. "What did you do this time?"

Futaba gave him a smirk. "Nothing that wasn't unwarranted, catboy."

"Inkling."

"Shoujo love interest!"

"Gremlin!"

"Four eyes!"

"Futaba, you wear glasses too. And your eyesight is worse than mine!"

"Catboy!"

"You already said that!"

"…CATBOY 2: THE NYANQUEL"

Makoto sighed. Yusuke and Sae had gathered behind the couple at the booth. "Can you please show us your laptop screen?" Somehow, whenever Ren and Futaba got like this, it was as though the collective brain cells between the two plummeted to zero.

"You'll love it," Futaba said, sticking her tongue out at Ren. She turned the screen over, and Makoto fought to stifle a laugh. On the screen was an image of Ren's face, imposed over an image of a cartoon character with exaggerated muscles. The words, "ren amamiya GODLSAYER" was written in what appeared to be an English font:

"You look…lovely…sweetheart," Makoto said, finally laughing. Ren rolled his eyes, but clearly had a smile on his face. A snort broke out behind them, as the two turned to find Sae clutching her stomach, tears streaming down her face.

The only person in the room who wasn't amused was Yusuke. In fact, he appeared mortified.

"What kind of abomination is this?!" he cried out, glaring at Futaba. "There is no composition, no respect for color theory…and even the word 'Godslayer' is misspelled!"

"Oh _whatever_ , Inari. It's a meme, who cares," Futaba said, shrugging. Yusuke was taken aback, placing his hand on his chest in shock.

"Then I will have to take it on myself to improve this so-called 'meme,' and transform it into something _worthy_!" Yusuke grabbed his sketchbook, flipping to a new page and setting to work. Ren shook his head, as the laughter of the café filled the night.

* * *

**WEDNESDAY, JULY 26TH, 2017**

**Evening** /  **Makoto’s Apartment**

"Do you still have that meme saved?" Makoto asked. If there was _one_ thing that could do the trick in embarrassing her boyfriend, it would be that. Ren gave her a suspicious look.

"I see your game, Niijima."

Makoto feigned shock, holding her free hand to her mouth. "Why, _whatever_ could you mean, Ren? I simply wish to look at a fond memory, I have no other intentions what _so_ ever." Ren lifted his head, to Makoto's disappointment, before grabbing his phone.

"You know, it _almost_ seems like you're being sarcastic with me."

"I wonder…maybe Eiko's sarcasm has finally rubbed off," Makoto replied, kissing him on his forehead. Ren playfully rolled his eyes as he scrolled back through their private messages. Makoto placed her head on his shoulder this time, watching him scroll up through their chat. Messages about homework, travel plans, video chat dates, and more passed before her eyes. Ren eventually came to a certain set of messages that made Makoto gulp.

* * *

**JANUARY 15TH, 2017**

> **I saw the Phan-Site.**
> 
> **** **I'm glad to see the change of heart helped things.**
> 
> **Still…this request got me thinking about my own situation.**
> 
> **He and his sister…They reminded me of the situation between Sis and I.**
> 
> **I mean, she also…She kind of…**
> 
> **Well, never mind.**
> 
> **What you feel isn't wrong.**
> 
> **I…guess you're right.**
> 
> **Thank you, Ren.**

* * *

Makoto stared at the messages. It was one of the Mementos missions they had taken as they worked on infiltrating Maruki’s Palace. A young man had written a request on the Phan-Site, expressing concern that he hated his younger sister, and even had a desire to kill her, kill himself, or kill them both. To say it struck something in Makoto was an understatement. She lingered over the words a while longer before looking to Ren. His expression was serious, and his eyes were filled with concern.

"I…" Makoto began. She sighed, lifting her head off Ren's shoulder and bringing her arms to her side. Ren unwrapped his arm from her waist and placed his hand atop hers, rubbing her thumb.

"You can talk to me, Makoto." She looked at him again, and exhaled.

"Have things been…the same? With Sae-san?"

"Yes…and no. It's not like it was back before we went through her…y'know," Makoto said, avoiding saying the "Palace" word. Every time she thought about Palaces, of the places the people like Kamoshida, Kaneshiro, and Shido built from their desires gone out of control. Even though she knew good people could have Palaces, like Futaba and Maruki, those were Palaces born from a world that beat them down and crushed them. While the same could be said about her sister, she also saw how she viewed the people within it. Heard how she talked about the cases she was working on in the couple of hours she was home in a week. Felt how the white hot envy rained down on--

A poke on the nose from Ren broke her from her thoughts. He stared at her. She stared back.

"Beep…" he began. Immediately, Makoto knew where he was going.

"Don't you say it--"

"Boop." _DAMN HIM._

" _Stooop iiiit_ ," Makoto whined, scrunching up her nose and shaking her head. Ren pressed a kiss to her forehead and took both her hands in his own. She looked at him once again, his face serious once more.

"It sounded like there was a big 'but,' coming on after that," Ren said, frowning. Suddenly, he smiled, winking at her. "And I'm not talking about yours."

Makoto rolled her eyes, the hint of a blush forming on her cheeks. "Yeah, yeah. I don't know. Things are so much better than they used to be. Sis _talks_ to me, asks me how I'm feeling, remembers the holidays. She even remembered my _birthday_ this year, Ren. I should be happy. I should be _ecstatic_. But…I'm not. I'm…afraid."

"Afraid of what?" Ren asked. Makoto didn't say anything, looking down at her lap. Ren let go of one of her hands to brush away the tears trickling down her face.

"Afraid of what, Makoto?" he asked, gently stroking her cheek. She looked him in the eyes.

"I don't really know. Afraid she will go back to how she used to be? Afraid I'll be 'useless'--" She and Ren both winced. They both remembered the Kaneshiro incident rather vividly. "I don't know what I'm afraid of with her. Even though everything is going well now, it still feels like I am walking on eggshells. One wrong move, and suddenly we're back to her mostly quietly, and sometimes vocally, hating me."

The two sat in silence for some time. Ren's hand continued to stroke Makoto's thumb. His other had migrated to her back when she leaned into his chest, resting her head on the crook between his shoulder and his neck. His other hand rubbed her back rhythmically, as she continued to cry into him.

"Makoto…" Ren said. She pulled back up to look at him. She sniffled.

"I know how much you value Sae-san, and what she means to you. If things have been going like this with her, maybe…maybe it could be helpful for you to talk to someone about it?"

Makoto frowned. "Ren, I appreciate the suggestion, but our last involvement with a counselor almost led to the end of reality as we know it." Ren gave a bitter chuckle. Dr. Maruki was very unlike the other adult Palace rulers they faced, much more in line with Futaba than anything. Though, it did not change the harrowing experience they had to overcome half a year ago.

"Well, this time, we'll go with someone uninvolved with cognitive psience. Plus, I think we've outgrown accepting suggestions from Shujin," Ren replied. Makoto could not help but chuckle.

"Okay…who do you have in mind, then?"

"Dr. Tae Takemi."

Makoto looked at him confused. "I thought she was a medical doctor, not a therapist."

"Well, she actually has a license as a therapist, though she only takes a few people in her private practice at a time," Ren said, scratching the back of his head. Makoto raised an eyebrow. Ren noticed, and gave her a sad smile.

"I'd…actually been seeing her for therapy myself. It wasn't terribly often, just biweekly, and I transferred to a new one while I was home. But it has been helpful with…y'know…" Ren tapered off, glancing at his wrists. Makoto frowned. She remembered how it had been for him after their plan to fool Akechi after Sae's… _place_. How he was physically abused by the police there, drugged up beyond recognition and beaten within inches of his life. How he had clung to her in those nights after, fearful of being beaten, of _dying_. Just the mere thought of those men, how they _never_ received _justic_ e, made her want to--

"Makoto," Ren said, snapping her from her thoughts. She followed his gaze to their intertwined hands, her fingers squeezing his knuckles white. She eased up the pressure, giving him quick apology kisses on both hands

"I know you're angry, and hurt, and scared. I still am too. But Tae and my new therapist have helped me start to process that. It's hard, but every time I come out, I feel a little bit lighter, a little more able to handle the weight of that interrogation."

"And you think that can help me?" It was an innocent question, but still made her wince the way it came out of her mouth. She worried she had hurt Ren, until she looked into his gray eyes, full of serenity, of love.

"Honestly, I'm not sure. But one thing I know, Makoto, is that what you went through with Sae-san, it hasn't left you. It's still gnawing at you. Those days that didn't seem like they'd ever end."

Makoto was crying again. Ren held her hands tighter. "And you don't deserve to live that way anymore. I think it could help to talk to Tae. If it doesn't, then we'll figure something else out instead, together."

Makoto sniffled. "Okay…I'll try it. But I don't want to do it alone."

"What do you mean?"

"I…I want Sis to be there, too. No. I _need_ her to be there. This started with both of us, and it needs to end with both of us," Makoto said, staring at Ren with the resolve she had held as Queen.

"Like, family therapy? I think that's what Tae's degree is in, if I remember right. I'll give you her number to call," Ren said, releasing Makoto's hands. She pouted at the loss of contact, though reached for her phone to input Dr. Takemi's contact information.

"Just tell her you were referred by m--"

"Ren, I'm fairly certain she knows you and I are connected. After all, remember where we got the, uh, y'know… _protectors_ ," Makoto said, blushing. Ren's eyes widened as he understood, a blush finally exploding across his cheeks. Makoto scoffed. _Figures he would blush about contraception of all things._

"A-anyway, you're sure about this." It was not a question. He already knew the answer.

"Yes. It has to be her and I."

"I'll be here the entire way," Ren said, grabbing her hands once again. "Just, if she says anything about plans to kill me, please remind Tae she has an obligation to report homicidal intent to possible victims." Makoto laughed, tilting her head.

"What, the mighty Godslayer can't handle a Niijima sister?"

"Yaldabaoth wishes it could have terrified me as much as the Niijima Sisters," Ren replied, smirking. Makoto dropped his hands to pull him into a tight hug.

"Thank you, Ren. I love you."

"I love you too, Makoto."

"But please get some sleep. If you drool on me in my bed, I might just kick you to the floor."

Ren laughed; Makoto glared.

"So…not a joke?"

"Nope."

Ren gulped, and helped her clean the living room before they retired to bed. An hour later, Ren was unconscious, his black hair framing his face in the crack of moonlight coming in from the bedroom's window. Makoto had her phone in her hand, hovering over her private chat with Sae. She could feel sweat beading on her forehead.

_Let's get this over with._

> **Sis. If you are free, let's meet for lunch tomorrow at Leblanc. My treat. I love you.**

With a shaky hand, Makoto sent the message to Sae. She had expected her sister to be unable to respond till morning, likely still putting the finishing touches on Shido's prosecution. As soon as she placed her phone down, it buzzed once, a message from Sae fresh in.

> **I will plan to meet you there. I have been wanting to speak with you. Have a good night. I love you too.**

Makoto fell back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

At what point in the night she fell asleep, she didn't notice.

But the pang of anxiety in her chest remained when she awoke.


	2. Promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> make your train rides tense in one simple step

**THURSDAY, JULY 27TH, 2017**

**Morning / Kanda Station**

The morning seemed to pass in an instant.

Makoto was reading when Ren woke, groggily expressing gratitude she had not kicked him from the bed overnight. He greeted her with a smile, then brought worried attention to the deep grooves under her eyes, to the paleness of her skin. He asked how much rest she got during the night; she declined to answer.

They had a light breakfast in silence and made their way to the train station to reach Leblanc. He wore jeans, with a white unbuttoned shirt and a black undershirt. She wore a white dress blouse and black leggings. On a better day, she may have spared a comment about their talents at color-coordination.

Ren had not visited Yongen-Jaya since his departure in the spring, and expressed a desire to spend some time exploring with her. After her rapidly approaching lunch with her sister, of course.

On the train, they sat together, fingers interlaced. Makoto stared absently at Ren as he looked out the window. For a moment, she traced the curves of his face; the little ways his eyes lit up at places he recalled, the way the edges of his lips curved ever so slightly into nostalgic smiles. Then she thought of Sae, of all the ways their lunch could go. She was lost in the middle of a particularly scathing imagining when Ren caught her stare and grinned.

"Like what you see?" he asked, playfully poking her nose. She narrowed her eyes.

"Yes, for now at least. That can change should someone start drooling in my bed," Makoto droned. Ren pouted, and saw the faintest smile tease the edges of Makoto's lips.

"If it'll help you get more sleep at night." A beat passed between the two. Whatever hints of a smile she bore cascaded to a frown. Evidently, he was still waiting for her to talk about her night.

"You're awfully stubborn, you know that?" Makoto asked, receiving a shrug in return.

"Hasn't failed me yet," he said, before wrinkling his brow. "Actually, scratch that. Hasn't failed me most of the time. Taking Lavenza to the gym wasn't the best idea…"

Makoto didn't reply. She simply stared off into the distant crowd of commuters ahead.

Ren brushed the back of her hand with his thumb.

"Makoto?"

"Yes?"

"Yen for your thoughts?"

"That will be 200,000."

"That's rude."

"That's _life,_ Ren."

Silence.

Makoto noticed Ren put his free hand into his pocket, while his other remained entangled with her own. She exhaled, thoughts circling back to Sae and what she wanted to say:

> _Sis, what are your thoughts on therapy?_
> 
> _Hmph, at least you’re paying someone to clean up your messes for once._
> 
> _Sis, maybe we can try counseling?_
> 
> _How much more are you going to eat away at my life?_

Makoto scowled, free hand balling into a fist. She felt her phone buzz in the pocket of her purse. Makoto cocked an eyebrow and pulled it out, seeing a new message from Ren.

> **Your thoughts about lunch seem to be going well.**
> 
> **I'm thinking over the menu, it's difficult to pin down an order.**
> 
> **I recommend the chef’s choice of curry, along with a side of Hones-Tea.**
> 
> …

Makoto rolled her eyes as she heard Ren giggle.

> **Laughing at your own puns doesn't make them less bad.**
> 
> **You're right, I much prefer the sound of my girlfriend's laughter.**
> 
> **She must be a marvelously patient woman to put up with you.**
> 
> **Far better than I will ever hope to deserve.**

Makoto glanced up from her phone to find Ren's eyes on her. She snorted.

> **You sound like a club host.**
> 
> **That's not the first time you've told me that…**
> 
> **Nor will it be the last.**
> 
> **How you wound me, Commissioner Niijima!**
> 
> **Are you planning to converse with me over text for the rest of our train ride? While we’re sitting next to each other?**
> 
> **Given our prior attempt, it may be our best bet.**
> 
> **…Fair point.**
> 
> **Marvelous, humble, intelligent – you really do have it all.**
> 
> **I hope you're aware buttering me up won't make me tell you what I'm thinking.**
> 
> **I would hope you’d just choose to do that on your own.**
> 
> **…**
> 
> **Makoto, please. What's on your mind?**
> 
> **I just…**

Ren gave her hand a light squeeze. She let go a breath she didn't know she was holding.

> **After Sis agreed to meet, I couldn't get to sleep. I feel like I've gone through 75 different permutations of this conversation, and all of them lead to the same thing.**
> 
> **Her saying no?**
> 
> **Her asking if I'm 'crazy,' and telling me what a disappointment I am to her.**
> 
> **And then a no, of course.**
> 
> **You're worried she isn't going to understand you.**
> 
> **Are you sure you want to be a politician and _not_ a counselor?**
> 
> **Old Man Tora would be pretty disappointed if his favorite apprentice quit.**
> 
> **Are you not his _only_ apprentice?**
> 
> **Ouch. But you're changing the subject.**
> 
> **I would use an eye rolling symbol (emoticon?), but I still do not know how to access the list. So, this will have to suffice.**

Makoto waited until Ren received the text, before dramatically rolling her eyes at him. A small grin rested on her face. He tilted his head, smiling.

> **In any case, I suppose I am. I've fought so hard for Sis and I to get to this point, Ren. You and all our friends know that; we went through _literal_ mind games with her. I can't imagine losing that progress just because I don't feel happy with where we are now. Especially when it's such a marked improvement over where we _were_.**
> 
> **Makoto, just because things are better between you two doesn't mean that they’re good. When was the last time you talked to her?**
> 
> ... **My birthday.**
> 
> **Ah.**
> 
> **That’s the problem, Ren. Things _should_ be better between her and I.**
> 
> **Sis healed her own heart. She stood with us against Shido, the Grail, the conspiracy network.**
> 
> **She says she’s proud of me, she helped me apartment hunt, she helped me move in, she even agreed to this lunch.**
> 
> **I don’t understand why I feel this way, when it's not like she's...**

Makoto pictured how the familiar scene played out over the years: She'd be seated in their apartment. Sae would be standing. Makoto would find the courage to say something unrehearsed. Something genuine. Then, Sae would yell. She would call her useless, parasitic, childish, idiotic.

And Makoto would just take it all with a meek "Yes Sis" before dinner carried on like nothing happened. Over and over, without any rhyme or reason. Makoto clenched her phone, blood boiling. The thought of Sae towering over her, glaring at her as though she, a mere _child_ , had done something so _unforgivable_ in simply _existing_ made her want to ram her _fist_ —

A sharp pain flared in Makoto's stomach. She doubled over, clutching her phone to her chest. Ren leaned over immediately, one hand on her back and the other nestled in her own. She raised a hand to him, grimacing.

"I'll be fine, just…just a cramp," she announced, slowly sitting upright in the chair.

“A cramp."

"Yes, I believe that’s what I said,” she snapped.

Silence again.

Ren's gaze burrowed into her skull. She was always fond of his eyes, had been since that day at Shujin he rather bravely joined her table in the library as she studied. The way they metamorphized from timid, to confident, to caring, all with the slightest shift. And yet, there was a certain look of his that discomforted her.

The Look, one that would see past the walls of her masks to her very core. See all her I Shoulds, I Coulds, I Yearn-to-Be’s. She had seen it only twice before. The first, after saving her from Kaneshiro's lair. The second, the day he approached her in Shibuya Station, attempting to free her mind of Maruki's Actualization.

And now, here, was the third time. Makoto huffed, threading strands of her hair behind her ear. She felt exposed. Too open, too vulnerable. Yet, she was well acquainted with the feeling; it came with learning to love each other.

Over time, they came to understand that vulnerability as a necessary evil for them to experience. One that allowed them mutual accountability in their relationship. It was what drove them, in the early stages of the struggle against Maruki’s reality, to make a promise to one another. That regardless of the ugliness that so deeply entrenched itself in and around their hearts, they would lay down their masks. They would wade through the waves of shame and guilt that so easily threatened to drown them, like paper boats drifting in the sea. 

They would find hope in each other. Strength in each other.

And they would swim. Beyond the losses, beyond the hurt, beyond the constant swell of fear. They would swim, hand in hand, down their chosen path. 

She laid her phone in her lap, and brought her hands to his face, slowly turning it to her own.

Their eyes met.

"Tomorrow, Ren." Makoto's voice was soft, but clear.

"Tomorrow, Makoto." He began to smile, but she moved one of her fingers to his lips. She frowned and bit her lip.

"And…you'll tell me the whole truth too, won't you? About Mementos?" Ren glanced away from her for a moment. She brushed his cheek with her thumb.

She did not have all the details. It was several months ago, the day before delivering Sae's calling card. They were doing extra training in Mementos, preparing in the event they may face Akechi. One moment, they were fighting enemies that spawned near the end of the most recently uncovered area. The next, she was in an injured Joker’s arms, with half the team down and the surrounding area destroyed. No matter how she approached it, her fellow Thieves seemed reluctant to discuss it afterwards. Even now, the hesitance was clear on Ren's face.

His eyes found their way back to hers. He kissed the finger resting against his lips, and nodded. She smiled, lowering her hands to her side. Ren caught one in his own, intertwining their fingers once more. He returned to his seat, eyes trained on the sights passing by the window. Makoto joined him, a growing warmth joining the impending dread in her chest.

They sat in comfortable silence until the train called their stop.


	3. Respite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have an early update since I just remembered tomorrow is memorial day in the US & I will be busy all day

**THURSDAY, JULY 27TH, 2017**

**Morning / Yongen-Jaya**

_11:30AM._

The walk to Leblanc was filled with friendly faces Ren acquainted himself with over the previous year. The shopkeepers all waved to him; children excitedly shouted, “frizzy head.” Even the stray alley cats seemed to look on in approval.

“Someone’s popular.”

“Being the ward of the local coffee guru has its perks.”

When they made it to Leblanc, the inside was dark, and the closed sign strung up on the door.

"That's weird," Ren said, scratching his head. "Boss said the shop was open today. Maybe he went out to get something?" Makoto shrugged. Ren opened the door; in the center, a familiar orange-haired young woman sat in a chair (Makoto recognized it as one from the attic), with a familiar, unamused black cat.

"I've been expecting you, Catboy 3: Tokyo Drift. And I see you’ve brought a guest," the young woman said, her normal glasses replaced with large, black sunglasses. The cat groaned and attempted to leap from the chair.

"Futaba, this is ridiculous! I'm leaving!" Morgana cried out. Futaba noticed the cat's struggle and wrapped her arms around him.

"Monaaa! You're ruining the dramatic effect! Do it for the Vine!"

"What do plants have to do with this?!"

Makoto leaned over to Ren, whispering. "What _do_ plants have to do with this?"

"I'll explain later," he chuckled. Ren walked up to Futaba, patting her head. She pouted for a moment, before an impish smile lit up her face.

"Good to see you, shrimp."

"Yeah, whatever, freakishly tall boy." Futaba released Morgana, the cat landing on one of the booth tables. Futaba reached into her pocket and switched out the sunglasses for her regular pair. "Mona's happy to see you too. You should hear the sappy stuff he says when he thinks no one is liste—" Morgana jumped on Futaba's head, and over to the adjacent counter. Futaba started rubbing her scalp, glaring.

"Mean kitty!"

"Serves you right! Anyway," Morgana said, sauntering towards Ren. His voice took on a haughty tone. "It's been a long time, Joker. I was beginning to worry you'd be a complete wreck without me, you know?" Ren rolled his eyes, rubbing Morgana below his chin.

"Morgana, it's only been a day. Futaba had to pick you up since Makoto's apartment doesn't allow pets" Ren said, smiling as he heard Morgana's appreciative purrs. "But missed you too, partner."

"Yeah, well, tell your girlfriend to find a better apartment. _With_ room service!"

Makoto smiled at the scene; even if it felt like she was walking into war, she could always expect her friends to be as lively as ever. The door to the café opened once more; the four of them turned to find Sojiro Sakura grumbling between two large bags of groceries.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," Sojiro smirked, placing the bags on the counter. He gave Makoto their standard handshake and gave Ren a clap to the back. Sojiro pulled his hand back, surprised.

"Kid, have you been working out?"

"Not to brag," Ren began, clearly boasting. Makoto could not help but roll her eyes as he flexed a muscle. "But yeah, I've been trying here and there."

Sojiro nodded in approval. "Good to hear. Maybe one day, you'll finally be half as strong as Makoto over there." He pointed a thumb at Makoto, who whistled innocently before flexing her own arms. Ren flashed her a quick Joker smirk -- the type he got before doing something either extremely suave or extremely ridiculous. Before he could make a move, Sojiro announced that he would get them started on some coffee.

* * *

Morgana took the moment to migrate to the attic, deciding to take a nap to recharge his “Futaba Meter.” Ren elected to help Sojiro prepare their meal, their idle chatter a murmur over the whistles of the stove pots. Makoto took a seat in her and Ren’s old study booth, striking up conversation with Futaba about school. The girl had taken the seat directly across from Makoto, her arms resting on the table. She beamed with pride when mentioning her school days, and the fact she only attempted to wear her mask to school once per day the previous week. A marked improvement from the five times a day back around her official start at Shujin in April.

“So, I take it you haven’t caused any trouble for your teachers thus far?” Makoto crossed her arms.

“Makoto, _puh-lease_ ,” Futaba said, waving her off. “I would never harass such helpful NPCs!”

“Really? I’ve heard there’s been some rather crude, 5-second announcements broadcast throughout the school every other period lately.” Makoto placed her right hand on the table, eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, right, Futaba?”

“You’ve got no proof!” Futaba replied, puffing out her cheeks.

“Is that so? The student council has told me that research into these incidents has turned up the name ‘ _Alibaba_ ’.” Makoto’s eyes narrowed even further. “Care to explain yourself?”

Futaba sank down behind the table, only her eyes and forehead visible.

“I have a right to remain silent!”

“Futaba, _I’m not arresting you_.” A light chuckle filled the air. She drew her attention from Futaba to Ren, a bemused smile resting on his face as he stirred the curry pot.

“What is it?”

“You’re still in contact with the student council?”

“Well, yes, of course I am! It would be poor leadership to abandon them right after such an important period of transiti— wait, are you making fun of me!?” Makoto asked, wide eyed. Ren and Futaba burst into laughter. Ren flashed her a toothy smile.

“Makoto, please never change.”

“Mamakoto strikes again.” Makoto’s focus shifted back to the girl beneath the table, glaring.

“We’re not through with this discussion!”

Futaba rose back into her seat, pointing towards Makoto. “Reeeen! The fuzz is trying to infringe on my freedom as a citizen!”

“Futaba, if you keep it up, she’ll probably get a warrant out on you.”

Futaba puffed out her cheeks. “Hmph, I know my rights! And it was all Ryuji’s fault anyway. You know how much of a bad influence that Nasty Crime Boy can be!”

“Futaba, he’s been at physical rehab in Osaka since May!”

“Well, he told me to keep him updated on anything interesting that happens! And since nothing interesting happens on its own, I thought I’d help the process along a little.”

Makoto pinched the bridge of her nose. “And Ann is just _letting_ you do this?”

“She’s been busy getting her stuff ready to go overseas next semester,” Futaba shrugged. She pointed a thumb over in Ren’s direction. “Plus, all of this is technically her, Ryuji, and Catboy’s fault for suggesting which Vines to play whenever I’ve asked them.”

Ren cleared his throat as Makoto turned her glare towards him. Futaba shot him a smug grin.

“Ren. Care to explain?”

“Uhhh…”

At that moment, Sojiro walked up to their booth, placing a mug of coffee before each of them. Makoto swore she saw Ren mouth a silent “thank you” to the man, but found herself too preoccupied with the pleasantness of her coffee to mind.

Futaba clapped her hands together. “Curry time!”

“Not just yet,” Sojiro said, taking a swig of his own coffee. “It’ll be another 20 minutes before the kid’s finished with it.”

“But Sojiroooo! I need it before my appointment!” Futaba pouted. “How do you expect me to talk to that therapist for a whole hour on an empty stomach?”

Sojiro sighed, shaking his head. “Didn’t you just eat that instant ramen?”

“Yeah, but that was my _ramen_ stomach. My _curry_ stomach still hungers!”

Sojiro gave another sigh, walking back towards a bemused Ren.

“You’re seeing a therapist, Futaba?” Makoto locked eyes with her, slack jawed. Realistically, she knew Futaba was a far cry from how she used to be, trapped beneath the shadow of her Palace. But for her to willingly talk about her feelings to a stranger was more than a little shocking.

“Uh huh! Been seeing her since that whole thing with Maruki and…and…” Futaba muttered, looking away. Makoto frowned; like her with her father, Futaba had the brief opportunity to spend time with her mother in Maruki’s reality. She remembered the look on Futaba’s face the day after they first entered the Palace. How they all looked after coming home and finding the illusive people they so desired to see were no longer there.

Makoto reached across the table and patted Futaba on the head. “Well, how do you like her?”

The younger girl met her eyes with a small smile.

“Dr. Yamagishi is so cool! She really listens to what I have to say, and best part,” Futaba said, her smile spreading her arms out with a grin. Makoto sat back in her chair, her own smile spreading. “She knows _the_ Pink Argus from Phoenix Ranger Featherman Victory!”

“Oh, she does?”

“Yeah! She told me they went to high school together and still meet every now and then! She even showed me a signed prop Pink Argus sent to her for the kids she works with. So cool!”

“She sounds like a lovely match for you, Futaba.”

“Yeah, if you’re interested, you should totally work with someone like her, Makoto!”

“M-m-me?” Makoto’s eyes widened.

“Yup! I know we didn’t have a great experience with a counselor before, but Dr. Yamagishi is totally cool!” Futaba declared, absentmindedly tapping her fingers on the table.

“I-I guess, although, I would need to gather more information before I was able to commit to—”

Futaba slapped her hands down onto the table. “Lay it on me, copper!”

“What?” Makoto blinked.

“If you got questions, you might as well ask them,” Futaba paused, before squinting her way. “As long as you’re not gonna throw the book at me!”

Makoto bit her lip in thought. She didn’t want to pry into Futaba’s personal matters more than she, quite literally, already has. Although Futaba had only grown more open with her and Ren over time, she was hesitant that the girl may get so overwhelmed she may share more than she was comfortable with. Yet, if she refused, would she not simply be shutting Futaba down for taking a step towards being more open?

Makoto chuckled. “I suppose that’s a fair compromise for now.” The young girl let out a small “whoop.”

“ _But_ ,” Makoto added, punctuating the words with a light glare, “I reserve the right to return to my interrogation should this simply be an attempt to escape culpability for the school announcements.” Futaba leaned her head back, groaning.

“ _Fiiiine_.”

Satisfied, Makoto began. “What is it like in the appointment?”

“Well, it’s a lot of talking. Whenever I’m speaking with her, I talk as much as Inari does at an art museum.”

Makoto stared, dumbfounded. _Okay, that’s a lot._

“And there’s times where I just cry a lot…” Futaba trailed off. Her chest rose and fell three times.

“Futaba, you don’t have to talk about it if it’s too much.”

Futaba shook her head. “N-no, I think I can do this.” She took a steadying breath before continuing.

“Thinking about Mom, about stuff before living with Sojiro, all the stuff that almost happened to us…” Out of the corner of her eye, Makoto saw the slightest movement from Sojiro. If she had turned around completely, she may have noticed him wipe a tear from his eyes.

“It’s _scary_ , Makoto. Sometimes, I still think about what happened if things went wrong with Shido, or Akechi, or the Grail.” Futaba pulled her legs into the seat, huddling them to her chest.

“Futaba…”

Futaba wrapped her arms around herself. “So many people used my mom’s research and they…they _killed_ people. They killed _her_. They even tried to kill all of us too. What would’ve happened if we weren’t able to win? How many more people would be dead because of Shido abusing my mom’s research like that?” Futaba buried her head in her arms. Makoto sat, silent.

She would be lying if she said she had not considered that as well. In the months following the end of the Metaverse, she often found herself reflecting on the victims they had missed, as though trains passing by in the night. Although the Phantom Thieves put an end to the mental shutdowns & psychotic breakdowns, those incidents had been going on undeterred for two entire years prior.

730 days.

17520 hours.

How many of those moments were filled with cases like Futaba’s? Like Haru’s? How many families were ripped apart? How many children had to come home to find their older sister shakily sitting across from a police officer, the only sounds in the rooms the muffled sobs of two young girls hearing the words “Your father was killed in action, I’m so sorry for your loss—"

Makoto chided herself.

 _I can’t think about that right now. I need to be here for Futaba, I_ _need to say something._

“But,” Futaba said, snapping Makoto from her thoughts. Futaba lifted her head, nose was red, breath still ragged. Yet her eyes were confident, assured. “Dr. Yamagishi also helps me think about all the stuff I have now. Being able to be here with all of you and just…” Futaba gestured in the air.

“Just...?” Makoto prompted, observing the girl’s search for the words.

“Being alive. Being here, in this moment, and _living_.” Makoto watched in silence as tears bunched up at the corners of Futaba’s eyes. The girl placed her legs back beneath the table, sitting upright. Makoto picked up Futaba’s hand, gently squeezing it.

“We beat Shido and his dumb cronies and stomped out the Grail. I scrubbed every trace of Mom’s research from the web so it can’t be used to hurt anyone else. I don’t know if it’ll ever feel like enough to make up for the people we couldn’t save… but I do know that Mom would want me to keep going, to _live_ , and I’m gonna do just that!” Futaba declared. She looked at Makoto, before averting her eyes. A blush crept up on her face.

“Y-you probably think I s-sound dumb, r-right?”

Makoto gave a soft shake of her head. “I think you sound incredibly wise, Futaba.”

Futaba laughed, a single tear falling down her face. Makoto beamed.

Ren and Sojiro walked to the booth, placing plates of curry on the table. Futaba pulled her hand from Makoto’s and quickly wiped her eyes. Sojiro patted her back, offering her a gentle smile. Ren slid into the seat next to Makoto,

"So, what brings you both in today?” Sojiro asked. “The kid's call came pretty last minute; sorry I didn’t have the curry ready sooner.”

"It’s okay Boss, no need to fret for my sake,” Makoto answered, waving her hand. “I was actually planning to have lunch here with Sis.” Both Sojiro and Futaba raised an eyebrow.

"We have something…important, to discuss."

Sojiro grunted and walked back over to the curry pot. Futaba brought out her laptop, typing away at the keys.

“Is…something wrong, Boss?” Makoto asked, frowning. Sojiro turned his head towards her, letting out a deep sigh before he returned his attention to the curry.

“It’s not you Makoto. I—” Sojiro paused and shook his head.

“Listen. I appreciate what your sister did for the kid here,” he motioned to Ren with his head, “but she hasn’t been the best to my family most of the time we’ve known her.” Sojiro emptied a ladle of curry over rice, setting it in the microwave.

“In fact, she’s been pretty damn threatening more often than not.” Makoto’s gaze fell to her lap.

“Yeah, Big Boss Niijima is like the Edgeworth to your Phoenix,” Futaba added, continuing to type. “She’s definitely nicer now, but _anything_ seems nice compared to how she was bef—” she paused, noticing the pained expression on Makoto’s face. Ren shot her a light glare.

“W-well I’m sure she’s treated you well, Makoto!”

Ren’s fingers interlaced with Makoto’s own. He gave a light squeeze.

Thoughts flooded her mind of sitting at the dinner table. Asking Sae how she thought their father would react to the Phantom Thieves. Hearing the anger, the resentment drip from each word: _"You don’t have to do a single thing, and yet you’re provided with food, clothes, a home."_

“...I suppose so,” Makoto muttered.

“More importantly,” Futaba replied, clapping her hands together to get the couple’s attention. She gave a smug grin to Ren as she turned her laptop around. A lone window filled with purchases adorned the screen. The name AMAMIYA, REN sat in the top corner.

“Futaba, what are you doing with my bank statements?” Ren’s eyes widened.

“Nothing you should be ashamed of. Ooh, except maybe that one big purchase from the costume store in Shinjuku,” Futaba wiggled her eyebrows. Ren reached across the table to grab a wriggling Futaba, his face as red as his old Joker gloves. Futaba held her laptop in the air, cackling.

"Don't you have a therapist to talk to?"

"Appointment’s not till 1! Plus, don’t _you_ have an outfit to tell Makoto about?" Ren pushed his torso up on the table, lunging for the laptop. Futaba held the laptop in the air behind her head, attempting to lick Ren’s hands as they came closer.

Makoto, desperate to stop the spreading blush on her face, let her attention wander from the bickering siblings to her phone. _11:59AM_. Knowing how Sae operated, she would be walking through the door at any—

A bell chime filled the air. The door to the café opened. Sae Niijima, dressed in her usual business suit, stepped through the entrance. She took a moment to survey the sight before her.

Makoto Niijima, the color drained from her face outside the smallest blush on her cheeks. Futaba Sakura, laptop overhead and tongue sticking out of her mouth. Sojiro Sakura, sighing, grabbing a plate from the microwave. And finally, Ren Amamiya, torso on the table, and feet pressed against the seat next to her sister. Sae sat at the nearest barstool and smiled to Sojiro.

"I'd like one Jamaican Blue Mountain, please."

She met Ren’s eyes.

And frowned.

"Extra-large."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally a lot goofier in the first draft, but I'm much more satisfied with how it turned out. 
> 
> Tension's building for the next chapter, which will come on 6/8.
> 
> I hope you're all staying safe out there!!


	4. Request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5 is coming on 6/22.
> 
> Before I launch into the chapter, it is extremely important to me to highlight the ongoing mass protests against anti-black racism and police brutality in the U.S. There are lots of words I can share about my own experiences with racism & how it has effected people I care about, but more importantly, each of us has a responsibility to challenge it wherever we see it. Whether that be in our homes, our workplaces, our communities, our leaders, and especially ourselves.
> 
> People should not have to live in fear of assault, of death, from police officers whose goals should be to protect us, and we have to demand better for the lives that have been lost and the lives that are in danger of being lost in the future.
> 
> I understand that some may feel uncomfortable with discussing politically charged ideas, but I also remind you that these types of injustice are exactly the kind that the Phantom Thieves and Persona 5 as a whole explicitly deals with in spades. Just as they fought for their right to a future of fairness & equity, we must do the same.
> 
> Here are some fundraisers and petitions I strongly encourage donating to (if you are able), and generally bringing more awareness to:
> 
> Iyanna Dior: https://twitter.com/Drebae_/status/1267990265316311048?s=20
> 
> Justice for Breonna Taylor: https://www.gofundme.com/f/9v4q2-justice-for-breonna-taylor
> 
> Homeless Black Trans Women Fund: https://www.gofundme.com/f/homeless-black-trans-women-fund?utm_source=twitter&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=p_cp+share-sheet
> 
> In Memory of Tony McDade: https://twitter.com/bmluse/status/1267083298372755456?s=20
> 
> Black Immigrant Collective: https://www.facebook.com/BlackImmigrantCollective/
> 
> Justice for Shukri Abdi: https://www.change.org/p/manchester-police-justice-for-shukri-abdi?recruiter=1112602646&utm_source=share_petition&utm_medium=twitter&utm_campaign=psf_combo_share_abi&recruited_by_id=2672e080-a8f8-11ea-8f02-cd4e26a991bf
> 
> Justice for Sandra Bland: https://www.change.org/p/texas-governor-i-want-sandra-bland-s-case-reopened?recruiter=758457136&utm_source=share_petition&utm_medium=twitter&utm_campaign=psf_combo_share_abi&utm_term=psf_combo_share_initial&recruited_by_id=32e1d1e0-8101-11e7-aee6-d5d34bd4274a
> 
> Louisville Mutual Aid Fund: https://www.gofundme.com/f/louisville-mutual-aid-a-new-world-is-possible

**THURSDAY, JULY 27TH, 2017**

**Early Afternoon / Café Leblanc**

_12:10PM_.

“The coffee is wonderful as always.”

“Hm.”

Sae sat with her back against the counter, facing the former Thieves at their booth. Ren had shifted back to a normal sitting position, attempting to look anywhere but at Sae. Makoto sighed; it was a typical greeting between the two. Sae would glare, and Ren would attempt to pretend he wasn’t cowering in fear. Fortunately, their greeting passed quickly, and Sae had opted to speak with Sojiro instead.

“How has business been? I’d imagine things must be quite hectic with the summer season.”

Sojiro was bent over on the floor, placing the pots and pans beneath the oven. “Good enough,” he replied, standing back upright. He folded his apron and placed it underneath the counter.

“Futaba,” he announced, looking past Sae towards the door. “I’m gonna go on ahead. Make sure you’re back by 12:45 so we can get going on time.” Futaba responded somewhere between a grunt and an “okay.” Sojiro shifted his gaze to Ren and nodded.

“Make sure you lock up after you and Makoto are done.”

“Got it.”

“It’s always a pleasure, Makoto,” Sojiro smiled.

“You too, Boss.”

Sojiro turned to Sae.

“Sorry to cut our chat short. Have a good day, Niijima-san.”

“I do believe I’ve told you that ‘Sae’ is fine.”

“I suppose you have, Niijima-san.”

“Very well, _Sakura-san_.”

The room was silent as Sojiro exited the café. Ren adjusted the collar of his shirt. Makoto gulped. Futaba briefly stopped typing, chancing a look in Sae’s direction. The woman caught her eye and offered a gentle smile.

“How are you doing, Futaba-chan?”

Futaba’s eyes widened and fell back to her laptop screen. She began typing at a vigorous speed. “F-Fine!”

“…I see. How is school? You’ve started at Shujin, correct?”

“Y-yes ma’am!”

“Teachers haven’t been giving you trouble?”

Futaba suddenly raised her hands over her head. “I swear I didn’t mean anything by it! It’s not my fault that playing Vines over the PA is that much better than the regular announcements!”

Sae gave Makoto a confused look. Makoto averted her eyes, but shrugged.

“…I see. Do not fret Futaba-chan, I have no intention of punishing you.”

“Oh.” Futaba slowly lowered her arms back to the table. Her face was flushed. “Can we just pretend that that never happened?”

Sae chuckled. “Of course.” She brushed a strand of hair from her face. “The reason I ask about your teachers is due to Shujin’s history of _inadequate responses_ ” Sae put a harsh edge on the words. “I wanted to ensure your safety.”

Futaba looked to Makoto and Ren, confused and mildly terrified.

“There’s no need to worry, Sae-san,” Ren piped in, flashing a smile in her direction. All eyes turned to him. “Ann and Ryuji have actually been working on that.” He brushed his thumb over Makoto’s. “They’ve been rallying the student body and the faculty to force the administration to make changes to better protect and serve the school. They’ve actually drafted up a list of demands: four full-time counselors for each year-level, re-establishing a teacher’s union, a stronger parent/teacher presence at administrative discussions, student representatives joining for hiring interviews, disclosures of school funds, refunding Shiho Suzui's tuition & paying her lingering hospital fees, distributing scholarships previously promised for students, getting resources to assist victims of Kaneshiro's drug trafficking scam, covering physical and behavioral therapy for those subject to Kamoshida's and Kaneshiro's abuses, and so on.”

Sae’s eyebrows shot up. “Takamaki and Sakamoto are leading reform efforts?”

“You seem surprised, Sae-san.”

“Given their grade point averages, it's rather shocking to hear they’re capable of such leadership.” Ren’s smile faded. Futaba stopped typing. Makoto gulped. She snuck a glance towards Ren. The boy merely shrugged.

“They’ve actually been working hard with help from Ms. Kawakami in building their message and getting faculty support. So far I think they’ve gotten backing specifically from Ms. Chuono, Ms. Usami, Mr. Inui, and Mr. Hirouta”

Makoto and Sae started at him. Futaba’s mouth was agape. She pointed a finger to Ren.

“Ren, you never told me you were an Expository Protagonist! I would’ve asked you how to min-max riding the subway to school forever ago!”

“The last time we tried to talk about the subway, you gave up and went to play Gravity Daze.”

“Hmph! The way you were telling it was so _boring_ , like I could ever learn anything from that? Plus, why talk about subways when shifting gravity is so much cooler?”

“You know what, that’s fair.”

Sae cleared her throat.

“Amamiya, you still haven’t explained how you happen to know all of this. Given Futaba-chan’s and Makoto’s lack of knowledge on Takamaki & Sakamoto’s efforts here, it’s clear they haven’t told the rest of your friend group. What makes _you_ so special?”

Ren smirked. “Aside from—”

“Let me rephrase that,” Sae said, rolling her eyes. “Why did they choose to tell only _you_ instead of the rest of your group? Especially given all of your shared ties to Shujin.”

“Oh, I’m helping them with it. I’m trying to do the same at my school, actually.”

Sae crossed her arms. “And how are you going about that?”

Ren stole a glance at Makoto. “I, uh, joined my school's student council.”

Makoto turned towards him, giving him an ecstatic smile. “You did? You never told me!”

“It just happened fairly recently! I wanted to surprise you,” Ren said, flashing a bashful grin.

“Well, consider me surprised. Which position are you in?”

“Secretary, so nothing super special.”

“Ren, I’d hardly say that’s nothing special. I would have helped you with your campaign! And Ryuji and Ann too, I could have helped them get into contact with the Shujin council members.” Makoto brought a finger to her chin. “Actually, I’m surprised the council didn’t mention this to me during my check-ins.”

“To most of Shujin, Ann, Ryuji, and I are still pariahs,” Ren scoffed. “It wouldn’t be surprising if the council wanted to keep working with us under the table.”

“I…suppose so.” Makoto frowned. Even after all this time, the rumors surrounding the three founding Phantom Thieves remained in full swing. In the past, she had thought herself above them. That they were nothing more than cocky troublemakers who caused an uproar within the school. Yet, after blackmailing them to target Kaneshiro, Makoto grew to learn the truth. Ann, Ryuji, and Ren were like herself; people abandoned by institutions meant to protect them and having to find their own place and justice in the world.

“I’m surprised you didn’t get Makoto in on it,” Futaba replied, trying not to look in Sae’s direction. “She could’ve had them twirled around her finger!”

“Futaba, I may have been the council president, but I hardly had the administration ‘twirled around my finger,’ Makoto replied. Ren nudged her shoulder.

“Well, I offered to ask, but Ann and Ryuji didn’t want to bother her. They said she’s probably working up a storm as usual, and there’s no way they’d let her down.” Ren winked her way. “I was inclined to agree.”

Makoto gave a small smile, yet felt a pang of guilt in her chest. As much as she realized they had in common, there was a major difference. Unlike her in the spring of last year, they persisted. They revolted against Kamoshida. They went well out of their way to save Yusuke, to save Makoto herself. Even after she joined the Thieves and their heists grew more perilous, Ann, Ryuji, and Ren remained the heart of their group that kept on pushing forward.

Even now, they were pushing themselves to address the horrors Shujin tried to brush aside. That _she_ failed to address. The idea of them not wanting to let her down was laughable. 

“I see,” Sae announced, unfolding her arms. She placed her hand to her chin, staring at Ren. “And yet, why now, of all times? Why not when you were all together at Shujin?” Ren opened his mouth to reply, but Makoto’s voice rang in the air.

“They must have been fed up with how much nothing had changed, even after all of our experiences, with Kamoshida, Kobayakawa, and the rest of the administration.” Makoto felt Ren squeeze her hand. His eyes were closed, a scowl emerging on his face. Makoto herself narrowed her eyes at the thought of Kobayakawa. She intended to stop talking there, but her swelling anger pushed words out of her mouth.

“All throughout the previous school year, the administration tried to sweep any perceived scandals under the rug for the sake of their reputation. They left the students to deal with physical abuse, sexual assaults, drug trafficking, extortion, and overall substandard opportunities for their futures.”

She thought of the appeals she tried to make to Kobayakawa about the students’ well-being after Kamoshida’s abuses came to light.

About the extortion.

About the threats from the yakuza.

Yet each time, he’d wave her off and tell her to deal with it herself. A lone student, a _teenager_ , without the backing of the school behind her.

Makoto clenched her right fist.

“And when the students would try to speak up, they would be silenced. Told that maybe if they didn’t ‘act so provocatively…’”

_She pictured Ann, huddled in the corner of her room in tears as Kamoshida rang her cellphone repeatedly. Ann walking in the halls after Shiho’s suicide attempt, hearing rumors of Shiho doing it just to “show off,” or because she was “jealous of being Takamaki’s backup chick.”_

“…if they didn’t act out of turn…”

_She pictured Ryuji on the ground, screaming in agony as Kamoshida laughed over his broken form. She pictured the look of shame in his eyes as he recounted the story of his mother apologizing to him for what Kamoshida did._

“…if they didn’t break the rules…”

She cast a quick glance down to Ren, rubbing her thumb across his own.

“And if they just did what they were told…”

Makoto thought again of Kobayakawa. The way she’d bring a concern to him, only for him to turn it around on her. He would sit there with a smug smile and taunt her for not being as smart as Sae, as clever as Sae. That she would never be Sae’s equal.

Makoto took a moment to picture his face, really _see_ Kobayakawa. Her lips curled up to a snarl. She slammed her fist back into the booth seat with a loud thump. Futaba jumped. Ren’s eyes darted open and towards her. Sae stared at her, wide-eyed. Makoto, shocked, quickly took her seat, her stomach twisting and turning.

“A-all of this is to say, that change is long overdue for Shujin,” Makoto stammered. Futaba, Ren, and Sae all seemed to settle in their seats. Makoto felt a squeeze on her hand; she didn’t need to look to know Ren was giving her the same look from the train.

“Students shouldn’t have to live in fear of retribution for speaking up about injustices they’re being forced to endure at an institution meant to nurture their growth.”

Sae tilted her head, giving her a blank stare.

“It seems you’re quite passionate about this, Makoto.”

“I-I suppose I am.”

Ren nudged her with his elbow.

“She’s quite passionate about a number of things, Sae-san. Perhaps you should ask her about them sometime.”

A beat passed. The only sound in the room the clack of Futaba’s typing.

"I may be mistaken, but I was under the impression I was speaking to _Makoto_ ," Sae said. Makoto winced at the emphasis on her name. Ren took a sip of his coffee, and flashed Sae a trademark Joker smirk.

"And miss a chance to speak with my favorite potential sister-in-law?"

Sae's glare intensified.

"Uh. My favorite prosecutor?"

"I do believe I’ve told you that I'm a defense attorney now."

"My…uh…favorite woman who I hope will not kill me?"

Sae took a sip of her coffee, closing her eyes.

"Acceptable."

Ren exhaled, before giving her another grin.

"Good, because the next one I had was--" Makoto kicked him under the table. He mouthed a silent “ow.”

“Honestly, can you be serious for even a moment?” Sae pinched the bridge of her nose, placing her coffee on the counter. “I truly do wonder how you manage your studies when this is how you behave.”

“I had a great tutor,” Ren replied, winking towards Makoto. She rolled her eyes with a grin. “Not to mention, it helps having a schedule around it to give some structure.”

“Really? What is this so called ‘schedule’ you’re referring to?” Sae scoffed. “Let me guess, you squeeze in a minute of studying between running errands with the arms dealer and the shogi girl, then get ice cream with the maid and the gamer.”

“Actually, I fit it in after gossiping with the fortune teller, the reporter, and the bartender about the prosecutor’s love li—” Ren was cut off by Sae slamming her hand against the counter. Futaba and Makoto winced.

“Watch your tongue,” Sae growled.

Ren gave her a Joker smirk.

“You’d be surprised what it can do.”

Time seemed to stop for a moment. Ren’s eyes widened, seemingly understanding what he just said. Sae’s jaw dropped, her right eye twitching. Futaba stopped typing entirely. Makoto blushed profusely.

“WELP,” Futaba practically yelled, slamming her laptop shut. “Time to make like a banana and split!” With a display of speed unheard of for her, Futaba grabbed her laptop and bolted for the attic. Makoto felt her phone buzz, opening it to find a text message in the Thieves’ most recent group chat.

* * *

> **Chat Name: Igor’s Angels**
> 
> **F’s in the chat for Ren, folks. Fノ( º _ ºノ)**
> 
> **F**
> 
> **F**
> 
> **?**
> 
> **Huh? Is Ren-senpai in danger?**
> 
> **@CurryAttiction [ _USER NOT FOUND_ ]**
> 
> **Did ya forget, Sumire? Ann changed his name to @Renstopher**
> 
> **Ah, how could I forget! Thank you, Ryuji-senpai!**
> 
> **@Renstopher**
> 
> **No, he is fine.**
> 
> **…Currently.**
> 
> **“Currently”?**
> 
> **We’re at Leblanc, Sis is just speaking with him.**
> 
> **Sis?**
> 
> **Wait, _Cop Niijima is with you???_**
> 
> ******Yes. And Ryuji, she’s not part of the police. She was simply a prosecutor.**
> 
> **Right. So, Super Cop Niijima is talking to him?**
> 
> **Ugh.**
> 
> **Yes. But it’s fine.**
> 
> **That sounds like the opposite of fine…**
> 
> **Does Ren-kun require Kevlar? I can drop some off if it would be beneficial.**
> 
> **It’s fine!**
> 
> **And Haru, why do you have Kevlar?**
> 
> **It has a very pleasant aesthetic. 😊**
> 
> **Makoto, consider how she feels about Ren.**
> 
> **…**
> 
> **RIP Dirty Crime Boy, 1999-2017.**
> 
> **F**
> 
> **F**
> 
> **F!**
> 
> **I am afraid I do not quite understand this, but F?**
> 
> **F…steak. Fabulous steak. Mmm yes, steak sounds marvelous.**
> 
> **Weirdo Inari**.
> 
> **…F.**

* * *

Makoto turned her attention to Ren. He was still smiling, though the smugness was replaced by fear. Sweat was visible on his forehead. Sae’s lips drawn into a snarl, her glare laser focused on Ren.

“Choose your next words _carefully_ , Amamiya.”

“…By that, I mean, I’ve been working on my negotiating skills with the student council,” Ren stammered, rubbing the back of his head. Sae narrowed her eyes.

“So you’ve mentioned. And yet, Takamaki and Sakamoto didn’t need to join the student council to make a difference. Why then, would the notorious leader of the Phantom Thieves, do so?” Sae asked, still glaring at the boy.

“It’ll be helpful for the future. I believe you recall my time with a local politician here in Tokyo, Sae-san?”

“Yes, that was one of your more down-to-earth testimonies.”

“Well, working with that politician made me really think about what I wanted to do with my life,” Ren said, fiddling a finger in his bangs. “I’ve told Makoto that I’ve been interested in going into politics, specifically at the local level.”

“Why local?” Sae asked. “The national stage seems like a more appropriate venue for your grandstanding.”

Ren gave a bitter laugh. “I think I’ve had enough interaction with the national stage for some time.” Sae’s expression seemed to soften for a fraction of a second.

“So, I thought being part of that process at school would be helpful to give a better idea of what a smaller political world would look like,” he continued, brushing his thumb over Makoto’s.

“That’s why, along with helping Boss out during the week, I’m planning on interning with Yoshida-san of the Liberal Co-Prosperity Party.”

Sae raised an eyebrow. “Toranosuke Yoshida? _The_ No-Good-Tora?”

Makoto noticed Ren clench his teeth. “I believe that he was acquitted of the charges that led to that unfortunate moniker, with Kuramoto-san’s machinations coming to light.”

“You seem rather defensive of him,” Sae noted, folding her legs. “Could he perhaps be a confidant of yours?”

She stared at Ren.

He stared back.

“I thought we were long past the interrogations, Sae-san.”

“I believe _I’ll_ be the judge of that, Amamiya.”

“Hey, you _are_ The Judgment, after all.” Ren winked.

“Again with that nonsense name?” Sae scoffed. She brought her right hand to her face, her curled index finger resting below her chin. She stared at Ren, before taking a moment to look to Makoto. The girl felt her stomach shift.

“Very well. It seems you’re taking some _minor_ steps towards your future.” Sae brought her hands to her lap, folding them together. “Yet, I still wonder how, exactly, these steps will relate to _Makoto’s_ future.”

“Sis…” Makoto began.

“What do you mean, Sae-san?”

“You two have a… _close_ _bond_ ,” Sae said. Makoto clenched her fist. Ever since Sae found out about their relationship, she danced around it with euphemism after euphemism. “I need to make sure that you will contribute to Makoto’s future in a constructive and beneficial way.”

Sae leaned closer, staring Ren down.

Ren raised an eyebrow. He turned towards Makoto and brought his left hand up to her cheek. She smiled at the touch, before Ren pressed a kiss to her forehead. He turned his body back to Sae, matching her scowl with a smile.

“That’s easy: I already have.”

“…Amamiya, I would like to speak to Makoto alone. Go join Futaba-chan upstairs.” Ren looked to Makoto. She gave a small smile and nodded. Sae gave her own nod. As Ren rose from the booth, Sae spoke up.

“Amamiya?”

“Yes, Sae-san?”

“One last thing.”

“What is it?”

“You have five seconds to get to the attic, before I drag you up there myself.”

“That doesn’t sound very appropriate, Sae-san.”

Ren yelped as Sae’s gaze snapped up to him. He closed his mouth and not-so-subtly jogged towards the attic.

The moment she heard the door close, Makoto’s phone buzzed again.

* * *

> **Chat Name: Igor’s Angels**
> 
> **I regret to inform you all that I have survived.**
> 
> **I’m glad to hear you are well, Senpai!**
> 
> **I wouldn’t say that exactly. He’s huddled up in the attic with me & Mona rn. He looks as fearful as Mona did whenever Ryuji shouted about our group in public.**
> 
> **Which, btw, Mona says @NumbSkullNutz owes him 12 fatty tuna for “unparalleled acts of idiocy.” (ᵔᴥᵔ)**
> 
> **The hell I do!**
> 
> **AND WHO THE EFF CHANGED MY NAME TO THAT?!**
> 
> **I’m pretty sure if we all had a yen for Ryuji saying something he shouldn’t, we could buy a _lot_ more than 12 fatty tuna...**
> 
> **What was that?!**
> 
> **Settle down, you two.**
> 
> **Yes @Mamakoto**
> 
> **…Which one of you did that?**
> 
> **(⌒_⌒;)**
> 
> **Ugh. In any case, Ren, please make sure Futaba does not record my conversation with Sis.**
> 
> **Conversation…?**
> 
> **Awww, come on! This is the most exciting thing to happen here in aaaages!**
> 
> **Is everything okay, Makoto-senpai?**
> 
> **Yes.**
> 
> **Are you sure…?**
> 
> **Yeah man, don’t you think that could get rough?**
> 
> **…Why are you all so nervous about my sister?**
> 
> **Nothing!**
> 
> **No reason!**
> 
> **It’s totally cool!**
> 
> **I do believe I’ve told you all that there isn’t a need to fear her anymore. She’s been on our side of justice for quite some time now.**
> 
> **Sorry, Mako-chan, it is just…how do I say it…**
> 
> **Your sis is fucking _scary_ , man.**
> 
> **She looks like she could rip someone’s kidney out and get them arrested for “indecent kidney exposure.”**
> 
> **Every time she looks at me, I feel like I’m about to melt into the floor. ＼(〇_ｏ)／**
> 
> **Niijima-san has a certain aura about her that is rather intimidating…**
> 
> **She is also several inches taller than I am.**
> 
> **Is she _really_ that terrifying to you all?**
> 
> **Yep.**
> 
> **Yeah.**
> 
> **Yes.**
> 
> **Indeed.**
> 
> **Yup.**
> 
> **Mona says “absolutely.”**
> 
> **Very much so.**
> 
> **🥴**
> 
> **Oh hush, you.**
> 
> **Mmm, steak would make for a wonderful painting companion.**
> 
> **Would it kill you to stay on-topic for one minute, Inari?**
> 
> **Talking to my sister will be fine.**
> 
> **I think.**
> 
> **Uh, that ain’t real inspirin’, Makoto.**
> 
> **;aj;a;anfrhekajns**
> 
> **?**
> 
> **Her phone is probably having issues.**
> 
> **Dude again? How old is that thing?**
> 
> **Hey Sumire, if you wanna drop by Leblanc sometime, I can give you the deetz on some real good phone deals!**
> 
> **I appreciate the offer, Futaba-senpai, but I don’t think I will replace it just yet. ‘AKSMSKSM;A;’;;;. This phone is my very first one, picked out by Kasumi before she passed…**
> 
> **Oh…**
> 
> **Sumire-chan…**
> 
> **My apologies, I do not wish to worry you all! It’s simply a silly memory I wish to hold onto as long as I am able. I know now in my heart that Kasumi will always be with me on the path I’ve chosen for myself, and I will always have her support. We are family, after all. 😊**

* * *

Makoto’s breath hitched in her throat. _Support_ … _family…_

She thought back to their struggle against Dr. Maruki. How they weaved between the thorns of his Persona as he tried to dissuade them from fighting. The pained expression on his face as he turned to her and pleaded.

_“Niijima-san! Everyone has the right to wish for a happy family. You don't need to keep holding back your desires!”_

Makoto clenched her fists beneath the table, her stomach roiling. She snuck a glance at Sae, the older woman fiddling on her phone. Her lips were drawn in a tight line.

* * *

> **In any case, I hope that your conversation goes well, Makoto-senpai!**
> 
> **Same here!**
> 
> **You got this Miss Prez!**
> 
> **Good luck, Mako-chan!**
> 
> **Best wishes, Makoto.**
> 
> **I’ll provide support! (｀-´) >**
> 
> **And I’ll keep Futaba occupied.**
> 
> **Hey! ヽ(`Д´)ﾉ**
> 
> **Do your thing, Buchi-booboo.**
> 
> **AWWWWWWW!**
> 
> **Not gonna lie dude, that was cringy, but real fucking cute.**
> 
> **Stooooop it!**
> 
> **(Thank you, though. ❤)**
> 
> **❤**
> 
> **AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAw;];.,,**
> 
> **How cute!**
> 
> **Truly an adorable steak to the heart.**
> 
> **…**
> 
> **Did you not understand, Futaba? Truly an adorable *steak* to the heart.**
> 
> **I hate you.**

* * *

Makoto pocketed her phone. Sae placed her phone on the counter, legs crossed. The sisters sat in silence. Makoto’s phone buzzed a few more times, but she decided to check it later.

“So…” Makoto began, a knot forming in her stomach. She quickly adopted her usual mask for Sae. A plastic smile and cheerful tone, as courteous and professional as she could muster. For most of her adolescent life, Makoto always prepared her statements to Sae beforehand. Whether through countless hours spent practicing in front of the mirror or her assortment of Buchimaru paraphernalia, Makoto possessed a strong desire to know what she wanted to say, how she wanted to say it, and how she hoped her sister would receive it.

Unfortunately, as she sat across the woman herself, she found her words dying immediately on her tongue. Makoto cursed internally, willing herself to speak—

“I’m glad you called this lunch together.”

Makoto broke from her thoughts at the sound of Sae’s voice. The woman had taken another sip of coffee, holding it in her hand. She had a small, gentle smile on her face.

“It’s been a while since we’ve had an opportunity to sit like this, Makoto.”

“Um. Yes. I suppose it has.”

“I do apologize for my…conversation, with Amamiya,” Sae said, brushing a hair from her face. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Makoto’s mind whirred with numerous memories of moments she went to sleep in tears after speaking with Sae.

“However, I do have a question,” Sae declared, folding her arms. She frowned. “Why haven’t you requested to spend time with me before this?”

“Huh?”

“I haven’t seen you in-person since helping you move after your graduation. Thinking about it, the last time I’ve actually heard your voice was when I called to check in on you on your birthday.”

_That was intentional, Sis._

“I guess I’ve been busier than expected. The law curriculum at Tokyo demands full attention, after all.”

It wasn’t entirely false. In just her first few weeks at Tokyo University, Makoto had already racked up no less than six essays and an assortment of projects. Even now, she had a litany of papers to write analyzing the current political landscape in the aftermath of Shido’s conspiracy.

Sae pondered this for a moment, before nodding. “University coursework is certainly busying. How are your studies going?”

_It’s always my studies with you._

_Nothing about how I am, nothing about my friends, Ren._

_Everything you value about me comes from how good I can make you look._

“They’re going well.”

“Just well, huh?” Sae’s gaze fell to the ground. “Makoto, I’ve heard it can be difficult, going somewhere else after not getting into your first-choice school. I know how much you had your heart set on Waseda University.”

Makoto bit her lip.

“It’s fine, Sis.”

“I’m sure you’ll work much harder to make up for it.”

Silence. Makoto tried not to think about it. The endless prep for the entrance exams. The letter waiting in the mailbox. Calling Ren to read the letter with him. The ink blurring from her tears dampening the paper. The words “I regret to inform you we are unable to offer you admission” playing over and over in her head for weeks on end.

Even worse still, the day she told Sae. The disappointment that shone through her eyes, that laced her every word about it. Sae’s first words on the matter still haunted her: _“I suppose the Niijima tradition of attending Waseda would have to break at some point.”_

“…It’s certainly a lot of work, but nothing that I can’t handle.”

“I see.”

_That’s the problem Sis, you don’t “see” anything that doesn’t fit your perfect little vision of what you think I should be._

_You_ _don’t “see” how uncomfortable, how afraid I am speaking to you._

**_You don’t “see” how much I want to throw one of my course books at—_ **

_Wait, what?_

Pain shot through Makoto’s stomach, more sharply than before. She grit her teeth, clutching at her stomach. Sae immediately rose from her seat.

“Makoto, are you okay?”

“Yes, Sis,” Makoto said. She inhaled, allowing her thoughts to drift; the pain subsided near instantly. “I, uh, just had bad blueberries last night! I forgot to check the expiration date.” Sae’s eyes softened and she returned to her seat.

“I see. You need to make sure you get an ample amount of rest tonight.”

“I’ll make sure I do. I’m sure Ren will make certain of it as well.” Sae’s eyes narrowed at the mention of the boy.

“And he’s staying with you for the duration of your vacation?”

“Only on the weekends after this week. He wanted to assist Boss with the summer traffic, but didn’t want to impose in the middle of the week.”

“So, he chose to impose on you, instead.”

“Sis…” Makoto felt a pang in her stomach.

**_Don’t you dare say another word about him..._ **

“I suppose it’s fine as long as he doesn’t hamper your ability to enjoy your break.”

“I’m sure he won’t.”

Both fell silent. Makoto tapped her foot in the air. Sae tapped her fingers against the counter. Makoto’s brain ran through various calculations; was this the time to make her request? What were the odds of her being successful in this moment? Sae seemed open to discussion, but quickly delved into school and criticism of Ren. How could she know if Sae would want to listen to her? When has she ever listened to her before?

“Makoto…” Sae began, breaking the silence.

“Yes?”

“Is something wrong?”

Makoto shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

“…What do you mean, Sis?”

“Is everything okay? With…with me?” Sae’s gaze fell to the ground once more. Makoto grimaced. Ever since her… _place_ , Sae had changed. Gone was the insatiable “winner takes all” attitude she approached the world with. The envy, once white hot, settled to a smoldering cinder at the corners of her heart. They had not taken her Treasure; the foundation of her desires needed to remain intact for their plan to uncover Akechi & Shido.

Nevertheless, Makoto persisted. After Sae’s Shadow was pacified, Makoto kneeled at her side, asking her to remember the justice that she once strove for. That their father strove for. After the interrogation, Ren credited the act as paramount to his successful persuasion of Sae. In the months that followed, she became a crucial confidant to the Thieves, building the prosecution for Masayoshi Shido’s conspiracy network and assisting in purging Ren’s record of the false assault charge.

By all accounts, Sae was a reformed woman, one by her own strength of heart. And yet, as Makoto stared at her sister, an answer struggling to come to her lips, she could see something familiar in Sae’s face. The slight quiver of her lower lip, the same that would punctuate her speeches about colleges. The vein that pulsated in her brow as irritation built from Makoto asking, “childish questions.” And of course, as her friends quickly pointed out in Makoto herself: the eyes. The reddish-brown glare that could wither the population of a city. In the past, Sae’s eyes were hawkish, unyielding to anyone who dared question her decree, filled with the single-minded pursuit of the promise of power.

In this moment, under the calm sea of reddish-brown, Makoto could still see the tint of casino lights.

“Makoto?” The light faded further into the background, concern taking their place.

“Don’t be silly Sis, of course things are okay with you.” Makoto’s stomach protested as the lie forced itself through her lips. Sae’s eyes widened for a moment, before she closed them in thought, smiling. Makoto attempted to smile back, but her body refused to cooperate.

_Sis just loves to hear that she’s perfect._

“Well, I’m glad to have your approval on that front,” Sae replied, folding her hands in her lap. “But that still doesn’t quite answer why you specifically wanted to see me now, of all times.”

Makoto’s heart thumped faster, mind racing. It was now or never. She gripped her knees as the words spilled forth from her lips.

“SIS I WANT TO SEE A THERAPIST WITH YOU.”

Silence. Sae’s jaw dropped. Makoto shook in her seat. She could hear something shift around in the attic, but she did not dare look anywhere but her lap.

“You mean, family counseling?”

Makoto gave a tentative nod.

“That…is not a bad suggestion.”

Makoto perked up, immediately looking at Sae. Her sister took her usual calculation pose: right elbow in left hand, while her right index finger rested against her chin. Calculations seemed to run a mile a minute in Sae’s brain before she returned her attention to the shocked Makoto.

“It may prove beneficial. I admit, I have no experience with such professionals, but I see the benefits we stand to gain from this.”

_You do?_

“You do?”

“Yes. Makoto,” Sae said, smiling. “For so long, we have been all that the other has had, and now, you’re a capable young woman moving into her own lot in life. It’s a large adjustment for both of us, and perhaps we could benefit from having someone help guide us through such conversation.”

Outwardly, Makoto smiled, nodding at her sister. Internally, her thoughts screamed at her. This was not going where she thought it would. She thought she would be able to tell Sae the truth. That things between them were not as good as they seemed to her. That Makoto moving out was a _blessing_ , not some bump in the road they needed to climb over. Everything in Makoto urged her to say this, any _piece_ of this. She opened her mouth:

“Yes. That sounds wonderful, Sis. I have a private practice therapist in mind. Shall we give them a call to pencil in an appointment?”

_Dammit!_

Sae rose to her feet, stooping over the booth to give Makoto a hug.

“I have Mondays and Saturdays free at 3PM. I’m afraid I’ll have to leave the scheduling to you, I do have to return to work after all,” Sae said, holding her sister tight. Makoto’s eyes widened.

**_I could easily lob a fist—_ **

Makoto’s stomach lurched. She kept her arms glued to her side.

“Okay Sis, I’ll get it taken care of right away.”

Sae pulled away from Makoto and ruffled her hair. “Send me a message of the location, date, and time once it’s scheduled. I love you Makoto,” Sae said, grabbing her coffee and heading out the door.

Makoto waited for the door to shut, before lowering her head onto the table.

“Love you too, Sis…”

She heard cautious footsteps descend the stairs and approach her. A hand rubbed her back – Ren.

“Hey, how did it go?”

Makoto responded with a groan. Futaba’s voice rang out from across the table.

“Ren, she looks like one of those people that gun-it for the final boss with no kinds of strats.” Ren must have looked confused, for Futaba continued:

“It’s like if you fought through Maruki’s Palace with Mothman instead of all those broke Personas you had.”

“Well, obviously it would’ve ended the same. Mothman is kickass.”

“You know what, that’s fair.”

Makoto pulled herself up from the table, groaning. Ren planted a kiss on her forehead. Makoto grumbled, somewhat satiated by the affection. Ren began to kiss his way down to her nose, much to Futaba’s disgust.

“Can you two please get a room?! I’m too young for this!” Futaba said, covering her face. Ren and Makoto exchanged a look. Ren gave a fiendish smile.

“I forgot to mention, Futaba. If you think of listening to _any_ recordings that happened to be made here today,” Ren threatened, tipping Makoto’s chin up so her face was level with his. “Makoto and I _will_ make sure that the next time we kiss in front of you, we use _tongue_.” Futaba glared.

“You wouldn’t _dare_.”

Ren smirked, as he inched his face closer to Makoto’s. Makoto started to close the distance between their lips. Futaba’s face scrunched up in horror.

“Look at the time, I’m going to go to my appointment, delete all my recordings from today, and bleach my eyes.” Futaba rose from the booth and ran for the door. Before exiting, she swiveled around, narrowing her eyes at Ren.

“You may have won this time, The Catboy and The Furrious, but this boss fight isn’t over yet!” Futaba declared, running for home. Ren chuckled as he took a seat in the booth across from Makoto. He gently placed a hand atop hers.

“So…”

“She agreed to the therapy,” Makoto mumbled. “But she thinks I suggested it because we aren’t living together anymore!” Makoto threw her hands up, leaning back into the booth seat. “This is a disaster.”

“Well, it’s not all bad.”

Makoto shot Ren a quizzical look. “Explain yourself.”

“The first appointment is mostly paperwork and talking about what brings you in. For me, at least, I ended up sharing more reasons than I thought I would when I got there. You may be able to get more in-depth with Sae-san once you’re there. Especially with Tae guiding you through it.”

Makoto took a moment to consider this. Talking with Sae one-on-one had been more difficult than she pictured. Perhaps having a relatively unaffiliated third party could help her communicate the more sensitive aspects of this request.

“I guess you’re right,” Makoto replied, intertwining her fingers with Ren’s. “In any case, I should contact Dr. Takemi and see if I can get a spot for one of the days Sis mentioned.” Ren motioned his head towards the door.

“It’ll probably be faster if we have you schedule with her in person. Knowing Tae, I doubt she’d be in any rush to talk to people over the phone,” Ren said, rolling his eyes.

“Plus, after we take care of that, we can take some time to hang around Yongen some more. I heard they’re showing a Yakuza film in the old theater…” Ren nearly fell to the floor when Makoto practically pulled him from the booth. The two hurriedly cleaned and locked up Leblanc, Makoto leaving her payment for the lunch (and a very generous tip) on the counter near the attic. As Makoto grabbed Ren’s hand, she flashed him a toothy smile and led them out the door.

If there was one thing that could lift Makoto’s spirits, it was buff shirtless men stabbing one another to a flashy death.

* * *

**THURSDAY, JULY 26 TH, 2017**

**Afternoon / Yongen-Jaya Theater**

**Days Until Counseling Appointment: 2**

Makoto and Ren sat in the center of the theater, the Yakuza film “Like a Phoenix” unfolding before them. They had stopped by Tae’s clinic earlier in the day, with Ren waiting in the lobby as she asked detailed Tae questions about what to expect. To Makoto’s surprise, the woman refused to divulge much detail outside of an assortment of paperwork and discussing what brings them in.

“I would prefer to give the actual spiel to you and your sister at the same time, so both of you can have equal access to the information. I try to ease discord, not contribute,” she said with a wink. She and Makoto worked out their schedules and agreed for this upcoming Saturday at 3PM. Makoto texted Sae the details, and she affirmed she would meet her there.

From there, Makoto and Ren bounced between the batting cages, the secondhand shop, Sojiro’s house to play with Futaba and Morgana, and Leblanc for dinner. Over their curry, Ren gave her a look. The same one from the train. Makoto met his eyes.

Eventually, the couple arrived at the movie theater, the big screen currently showing the protagonist pummeling another man’s skull against a table.

Makoto found herself even more enraptured by the sight than normal. Something about seeing the protagonist, a meek man who had been overwhelmed by various manipulations from enemies and loved ones alike, coming back and dealing his own justice felt oddly satisfying.

Somewhere, in the back of Makoto’s mind, her thoughts drifted to her own past enemies. She thought of Kobayakawa’s thinly veiled threats about her future, all to secure his own as a favorite of Shido’s.

She thought of Kamoshida, and the way Ann would reflexively flinch whenever a male teacher passed her by in the hallway.

She thought of Kaneshiro, skin crawling at the thought of what he could have done to her, to Ann, to Sae.

She thought of Okumura and Sugimura. The hatred that bubbled up within her whenever she saw the deep, lingering sadness that would fill Haru’s eyes when she spoke of the past.

She thought of Shido and the nights after the interrogation when Ren would bury his head into her shoulder and sob from the pain, the guilt, the helplessness. How when he thought she was sleeping he’d whisper apologies for not being strong enough for her, for not being what “they needed him to be.”

She thought of Maruki. How desperate he was to make them happy, how cruelly he gave them everything they thought they wanted, only to force Ren to approach them and live with the guilt of freeing them. Of tearing away the family she so yearned to be with. In the struggle against him, he pleaded with her, telling her she had every right to her desires,

In that moment, seated upon Agnes, at the apex of her strength, Queen’s strength, she had met his eyes and roared. “I'll fulfill my desire for a happy family— with my own power!”

But she was no longer Queen. She could no longer see her heart manifest in the radiating power of Johanna, Anat, or Agnes.

No longer was she greeted by the cool comfort of the steel resolve that would fit against her face just right. No longer could she easily address the harms systems and police indulged themselves in with her own two, rugged hands.

And yet, she wasn’t the Makoto of old anymore. She wasn’t the same young woman that stood by and took Kobayakawa’s taunts. She wasn’t the young woman who would listen dutifully without raising her concerns.

She was no longer Queen.

And she was no longer that version of Makoto.

Then who was she?

A thought flittered across her mind. January snow, the courthouse, the soft hum of the Meta-Nav, and a brown-haired young man trailing behind her with a sneer.

_“So what then, will happen when we erase the Metaverse again? Which version of you is Queen prepared to die for?”_

And it was in this moment, Makoto’s thoughts turned to Sae.

As the protagonist delivered a crushing blow to the former father-figure he was fighting, this part of Makoto’s mind, swimming with the memories of those who hurt her, sung.

If it was not for the lurch growing in her stomach, pulling her from her ruminations, she may have noticed a thought in the furthest corner of her mind sing with the possibility:

**_What would it be like to have my justice with her?_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i like to imagine ryuji, ann, and ren texting each other paragraphs at weird points in the day every time they get an idea for something to help the shujin students


	5. The Daze of Sisters: Sae I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first draft of this chapter initially included another lengthy section, but it was becoming a behemoth to read (& edit), so I thought it would be best to split it up to give more breathing room for everything. Thus, Chapter 6 will likely be posted...let's say by 6/26. The normal schedule will resume after that.
> 
> As mentioned in the last chapter lead-in, it is extremely important to me to highlight the ongoing mass protests against anti-black racism and police brutality in the U.S.
> 
> Here are some fundraisers and petitions I strongly encourage donating to (if you are able), and generally bringing more awareness to:
> 
> Iyanna Dior: https://twitter.com/Drebae_/status/1267990265316311048?s=20
> 
> Justice for Breonna Taylor: https://www.gofundme.com/f/9v4q2-justice-for-breonna-taylor
> 
> Homeless Black Trans Women Fund: https://www.gofundme.com/f/homeless-black-trans-women-fund?utm_source=twitter&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=p_cp+share-sheet
> 
> The Okra Project: https://www.artsbusinesscollaborative.org/asp-products/the-okra-project-sponsored-project/
> 
> In Memory of Tony McDade: https://twitter.com/bmluse/status/1267083298372755456?s=20
> 
> Black Immigrant Collective: https://www.facebook.com/BlackImmigrantCollective/
> 
> Justice for Shukri Abdi: https://www.change.org/p/manchester-police-justice-for-shukri-abdi?recruiter=1112602646&utm_source=share_petition&utm_medium=twitter&utm_campaign=psf_combo_share_abi&recruited_by_id=2672e080-a8f8-11ea-8f02-cd4e26a991bf
> 
> Justice for Sandra Bland: https://www.change.org/p/texas-governor-i-want-sandra-bland-s-case-reopened?recruiter=758457136&utm_source=share_petition&utm_medium=twitter&utm_campaign=psf_combo_share_abi&utm_term=psf_combo_share_initial&recruited_by_id=32e1d1e0-8101-11e7-aee6-d5d34bd4274a
> 
> Louisville Mutual Aid Fund: https://www.gofundme.com/f/louisville-mutual-aid-a-new-world-is-possible
> 
> I also want to call attention to the recent and ongoing trials of women & trans folk coming forward in the games industry about past experiences of sexual assault and abuse, and some fundraisers/org working to support people who are subjected to this violence:
> 
> National Domestic Violence Hotline: https://www.thehotline.org/
> 
> Sojourner Home: https://www.sojournerhome.org/

**WEDNESDAY, JULY 26 TH, 2017**

**Evening / Sae’s Apartment**

For Sae Niijima, there were three fundamental truths to this moment in her life.

  1. She was truly, genuinely, the most fulfilled she has been in _many_ of her 29 years of life. Occasionally, she pondered the ocean of difference between now and just a year ago. A public prosecutor, whose ascent up the ranks was built on unyielding determination, and a drive for victory no matter the cost. Success was an addiction; each verdict would send a rush of endorphins through her brain until the euphoric bliss would wrap itself around her. It would shield her from the unrelenting dismissals and condescension from her male colleagues, the environment that decried “justice” was nothing but a platitude that separated the pencil pushers from the field agents, the suckers from the winners. Yet, like any addiction, the effect was fleeting. The moment she’d get a new case, the bliss would be ripped away, and all her dread would burn itself into her skin once more. She was trapped in this unforgiving cycle for years, only recently finding the strength to escape.
  2. She was no longer searching for approval from her work environment. Throughout her career as a prosecutor, she sought positive feedback in some way. From her director, in the form of a promotion. From the media, in recognition of her talent. From her coworkers, in the form of the fearful glances they’d send her way as she walked through the courthouse. Sae had wanted nothing more than to perch above the rest of the pack, to be in a place where she no longer had to toil and suffer for scraps far below her. However, now, all the approval she needed, she found in herself and her family.
  3. And last, but certainly not least, her younger sister, Makoto Niijima, a radiant light in her life. An honors student beyond Shujin’s worth, Former Student Council President, Tokyo University honors student, and, as she learned mere months ago, the fearless co-leader and advisor of the Phantom Thieves of Hearts. Over the last year, Makoto underwent a vigorous transformation. Gone was the younger sister that would cry for her in blackouts; she had blossomed into a young woman who delivered the world justice, salvation, and the freedom to choose their own paths.



Sae sat on the edge of her bed, staring out into the living room. Although it had been near five months since she helped Makoto move into her own apartment, she still expected to see the brunette out on the couch. Perhaps Makoto would be pouring over entrance exam study guides with a Buchimaru pencil case resting dutifully by her hands. Or absentmindedly tapping a pencil against the counter while she waited for the timer on the stove to reach zero.

A sigh escaped her lips. She allowed herself to fall back into the mattress, box springs squeaking beneath her weight. She was never one to admit to being lonely; she had long considered friendships to be a distraction from the achievements she sought. But in the time since her career change and Makoto’s move-out, Sae realized a fourth, reluctant truth.

  1. She was finally, truly alone, and it felt fucking awful.



A buzz on her cellphone snapped her from her thoughts. Sae groaned, slamming her hand onto the dresser near her bed. During her days as a prosecutor, her work-life balance was not particularly ideal, with many late nights and an inability to sleep in her own bed more than twice a week. She thought life as a defense attorney would alleviate that, but given the final touches remaining on the prosecution of Shido’s conspiracy network…

Sae let out a louder groan towards her ceiling.

“If this isn’t urgent, I may actually throw my phone against the wall,” she mumbled, squeezing her hand around it. Sae pulled it to her face, and her eyes widened.

It was a text from Makoto.

She scrambled upright in her bed, opening the text in front of her. She had not spoken her sister since her 19th birthday in April. And she hadn’t seen her in even longer. Something must have happened.

> **Sis. If you are free, let's meet for lunch tomorrow at Leblanc. My treat. I love you.**

Sae’s mind ran through various calculations.

For Makoto to contact her out of the blue, there were several potential explanations:

  1. **Makoto was in danger** : Logically, the odds were low given her neighborhood, and it did not make sense given the context of the message itself. If Makoto were in danger, her speech would be more frantic, more anxious. Furthermore, Makoto would very likely (and childishly) attempt to fight if it were an assailant.
  2. **Makoto was scared** : Equally as unlikely. There were no reports of blackouts in Tokyo either, and, as far as she knew, Buchimaru-kun was still in impeccable condition. Which simply leaves the third explanation...
  3. **Makoto and Amamiya have broken up**.



Sae paused to consider this.

She first became aware of the romantic nature of their relationship following Amamiya’s interrogation, when she shuttled the boy back to Leblanc in the backseat of a taxi. Makoto made a beeline straight for him, knocking Sae aside and anchoring herself to the beaten boy for the remainder of the night. Sae remembered going out for air with Sojiro, who confirmed the romance to her with a cigarette between his fingers and a forlorn stare at the sky.

In truth, she should have connected the dots together sooner. She noticed Makoto coming home with more and more trinkets over the summer season. Saw the way Makoto’s face lit up whenever she looked at her phone right after dinner. The peaceful, dreamy smiles she glimpsed on Makoto’s face whenever the girl thought she wasn’t paying attention.

At this point, Makoto had been dating Amamiya for nearly a year. On its own, she did not consider a year truly indicative of a long-lasting relationship. However, given their frequent life-or-death experiences as the Phantom Thieves – both of them leaders of the organization, at that – it was clear that their relationship was one forged in flames few couples have experienced.

As much as it annoyed her, Amamiya was likely to stay by Makoto’s side.

Of course, this was not to say Sae _hated_ him.

She respected his determination and his sense of justice. She felt indebted to him for saving the world and inspiring her to seek her justice on her own merits again.

By all metrics, Sae should approve of the boy. Like him, even.

But she didn’t.

And hasn’t been able to pinpoint why.

It was rather incredible how, over the course of a few short months, Amamiya had gone from “criminal” to “world’s savior dating my sister” to “barely tolerable existence” in her mind. Certainly, she has never known anyone able to make that level of impression in her life.

_Nor have I met someone able to make Makoto this happy since Dad …_

Sae frowned. As much as she wanted to wring Amamiya’s neck at times, she knew he would not break her sister’s heart.

She knew that those smiles Makoto would make when texting him, chatting with him over webcam, or simply thinking of him in the quiet moments, were ones that were filled with every iota of her soul.

Sae shook her head, brushing off the thought. She read Makoto’s message once more. After months, what would trigger her sister into wanting to meet with her in-person? Sae took a breath, and quickly typed out a reply.

> **I will plan to meet you there. I have been wanting to talk with you. Have a good night. I love you too.**

She read over the chat one final time, before placing her phone back on the dresser and collapsing into the mattress. Whatever it was that Makoto needed, she would find out soon enough.

* * *

**THURSDAY, JULY 27 TH, 2017**

**Afternoon / Tokyo Courthouse**

**Days Until Counseling Appointment: 2**

And find out she did.

Sae sat at her desk, a half-eaten salad bowl beside her. She had been working on one of the final pieces of documentation for Shido & his conspirators’ hearings. It was a tremendous feat for someone her age, let alone as one of the handful of women in the division.

This moment should be a landmark of her career.

She should be filled with all sorts of adulation. Of the same electricity that would rocket through her veins, pulse against the contours of her brain whenever she won a court case.

Yet, she only found her thoughts drifting back to her lunch at Leblanc. To the way Makoto fidgeted in her chair before blurting out her request.

_“SIS I WANT TO SEE A THERAPIST WITH YOU.”_

It took her by surprise, even more so when the girl texted her to confirm the appointed date & time. Makoto had long been the more emotional of the two; she always did take more after their mother in the end. And yet, she hardly ever mentioned her feelings to Sae. For her to propose a venue in which she would _have_ to speak about her emotions extensively, something must be wrong. Something must have hurt her.

Sae paused in her typing. Could it have been something she did? She had asked Makoto, and the girl denied it. Yet…

Sure, she shared some harsh words with Makoto in the past. What siblings haven’t been at each other’s throats? Despite that, they always came back together after it all. Always sat together for dinner, always exchanged good mornings and good evenings.

That is, when Sae wasn’t living and breathing her days away at her desk.

That is, when Sae had the patience to be able to listen to Makoto’s voice for more than two seconds before it would sound to her like nails slowly dragging themselves down the empty chalkboards in the classrooms of her youth.

That is, when Sae even had it in her to _look_ at Makoto. Those moments when all she would be able to see in her sister’s face were those shimmering reddish-brown eyes so reminiscent of their father’s, so full of the childish hope and optimism that he robbed from Sae the moment he pulled out of the parking garage and never pulled back in.

The moment she was huddled behind her bedroom door, eight years old, listening to him scream at her mother. Listening as his footsteps slowly encroached on her mother until there was the sharp crack of his hand—

Sae took a deep breath.

Her hands were shaking.

Thinking about him was never good for her. She’d gotten good at burying the memories of their father away. The only time she remembered even speaking about him was the time Makoto asked Sae what he would have thought about the Phantom Thieves.

_“I’ve had no time to think on such ridiculous thoughts. Would Dad have been happy with them? I don’t care. He died upholding some lofty sense of righteousness, leaving all his responsibilities on us. Isn't it time you grew up and acknowledged our situation? Right now, you're useless to me. All you do is eat away at my life.”_

It was harsh. But that was irrelevant now, right?

Makoto didn’t hold that, a single moment of stress leaking out, against her.

Right?

Sae thought on it.

A minute passed.

She scrunched up her brow.

_No…that’s all in the past. There may have been moments I wasn’t there when she needed me, but she handled it on her own. Makoto is far too strong to allow something like that to impede her._

In truth, she didn’t know _how_ Makoto handled everything so deftly. Between her phantom thievery, school, their parents’ deaths, it was miraculous how successful her sister became. Many people outside the family often praised Sae for stepping up to care for the household.

Yet, it was _she_ that had the Palace.

 _She_ whose desires ballooned to the point of distorting justice for her career’s sake.

If anything, _Makoto_ was the one that stepped up when their family needed someone. When the world needed someone.

When _Sae_ needed someone.

She groaned.

This was getting her nowhere. Sae reached for her salad, and took another, half-hearted bite as she continued to type away.

* * *

**THURSDAY, JULY 27 TH, 2017**

**Evening / Special Investigations Unit Building**

**Days Until Counseling Appointment: 2**

“Your diligence continues to be impeccable, Niijima.”

“Hm?”

Sae sat, legs crossed, bringing her attention back to the discussion. She was seated in the SIU Director’s room with the members of the special prosecution team. They were gathered in a circle of chairs arranged in front of the director’s desk. Sae allowed her attention to waver to the window, thoughts drifting to Makoto as she watched the harsh hum of the city lights dance against the darkened sky.

“My apologies, I was lost in thought for a moment.”

She heard a scoff from her right. No doubt one of the men in the room. She was used to it though; no matter what title she held or how much more work she did, it was all the same. Pointing out the smallest misstep on her part was all they could do to try and salvage any sense of superiority they had. Never mind the fact they were the very same men promoted on a whim, while she had to fight tooth and nail just to maintain what millimeter of momentum the system allowed her.

She didn’t dare look around the room; she simply turned her gaze towards the man in the director’s seat, his eyes obscured behind red tinted glasses.

 _Katsuya Suou_.

She was unfamiliar with the man. To reduce any interference from Shido’s network, the government selected Suou to organize the prosecution hearings. In her research following the announcement, she learned Suou was originally a detective from Sumaru City, and made a name for himself after solving a string of mysterious murders and cult-ish activities referred to as the “JOKER incident.”

To her frustration, she wasn’t able to get access to more detail than that. But given the “mysterious” nature of the deaths and lack of information, some part of her couldn’t help but wonder if it was in any way related to the Metaverse.

“Understandable. The work you’ve done for this team is nothing short of brilliant. I can only imagine the exhaustion you must feel after the effort that went into this file,” Suou said, pushing his red shades up the bridge of his nose.

“I will be able to rest once Masayoshi Shido and his conspirators are tried and behind bars,” Sae replied. Blunt, efficient. Just like she trained herself to be to survive in this building day in and day out.

Typically, the men in charge would merely nod. The exhaustion, the never-ending stress – it’s what they expected of her, _demanded_ of her, just so they could dangle the proverbial carrot of a promotion in front of her face, as though she were some _fucking_ _animal_ they wanted to train.

She expected the same of Suou.

To her surprise, he frowned.

“I see...”

Suou stood up from his desk. “I believe that we’ve covered all we need to for today. Tomorrow, I would like the prosecutorial team to meet me here, so we can discuss next steps and begin drafting the necessary subpoenas.”

The circle, Sae included, nodded.

“Excellent. You’re all dismissed for the evening.”

The rank and file of the team quickly cleaned up and dispersed. Sae once again caught the eye of the brunette woman, who seemed ready to call out to her.

“Niijima.” Sae turned around, finding Suou standing before his desk.

“Yes, sir?”

“May I have a moment of your time?”

She ran through the possibilities. It was possible he merely wanted to talk. It was also possible he was trying to take advantage of her. With his rank and an office free of witnesses, he could easily spin the narrative.

To her father’s credit, he had her and Makoto do extensive aikido training. 

To her _own_ credit, she also had the pocketknife she invested in as a teen in the front pocket of her dress pants.

“I’m afraid I must leave shortly, but yes, you may, sir.”

“Not to worry, this will only take a minute.” He motioned to the remaining seat in front of the desk. “Have a seat.”

Sae sat with her legs crossed, warily watching Suou take his seat behind the desk.

“I’ve heard about your original director.”

“Yes. It was quite unfortunate.”

“Unfortunate, and infuriating,” Suou scowled. “For a man who supposedly upheld ‘justice’ to work his way up the ranks through forgery and pressuring his subordinates to do the same. All for the sake of his public appearance. Such abominable behavior sullies the very name of justice.”

Sae glanced towards the floor. He wasn’t wrong. The director was nothing more than another pawn of Shido’s, arranging crimes and coverups to lull the public into falsely supporting Shido as the only truth.

But was she no different? Was she not prepared to falsify evidence to capture the Phantom Thieves —her _sister_ —all for the sake of a mere _chance_ at a promotion?

Sae looked at the man and said nothing.

Suou gave her a sad smile.

“I’ve been in this line of work for a long time, Niijima. The struggles I’ve faced must pale in comparison to yours, a woman simply trying to do her job. To achieve justice, for justice’s sake.”

Suou reached into his blazer. Sae’s pulse quickened, and she reached for her pocketknife. To her surprise, Suou brought out a handkerchief, and began to wipe his glasses off. She lowered her hand back to her side.

“I must apologize, by the way. I am only now realizing how this must look. My younger brother always said I often failed to understand the nuances of those younger than me,” he chuckled, placing his glasses back on his face. Sae stared at him.

“I’m not sure what you’re trying to convey here, sir.”

Suou exhaled, pushing his glasses up once more.

“Niijima. I’ve seen good people, women, like you before. Ones who’ve worked themselves to the bone, made to suffer for something they deserved a long time ago.”

Suou folded his hands on his deck, looking her in the eye.

“I’ll be frank. I want you to be the lead prosecutor in the Shido hearings.”

Sae’s jaw dropped.

“What?”

“You’ve compiled the most thorough report on the conspiracy. You’ve been involved with the case from the start — no, before it was even a case, _and_ was being actively buried by your boss. Niijima, you’re far too skilled to hand this over to someone else.”

“But sir, I’m hardly qualified for this. The people on your team have far more experience—"

“Niijima,” Suou interrupted. “They have been prosecutors for longer, yes. And they were specifically picked by me for their collective talents, yes. But you, by far, are the most qualified. Not in years, but in ethics. In justice.”

“You could have easily folded to the patriarchal hierarchy here. You could have joined the conspiracy and _allowed_ yourself to do Shido’s dirty work. And yet, you _didn’t_ ; you _rebelled_ , you fought from within, and _won_.”

Sae balled one of the hands in her lap.

“I may not have forged my cases, but…” Sae thought back to a court case last November. The one Makoto and the Phantom Thieves attended. She remembered the look on Makoto’s face as she made her case.

The wide eyes at her deliberate word choices; the way she coursed the judges to her favor; the saunter in her step as she walked back to her table with that electricity of winning pulsating through her veins.

Sae shook her head.

“Regardless, I have done things I’m not proud of in service of the law.”

“Do you regret them, Niijima?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you regret your choices?”

Sae pictured Makoto’s face in the courtroom again.

She opened her mouth.

And closed it again.

Suou continued.

“We’ve all made decisions we aren’t proud of. A guilty choice; an innocent sin. They are the skeletons we carry in the closet. But not everyone chooses to acknowledge them; to open that door and face them for what they are.” Suou looked to her with a serious gaze.

“You’re _different_ , Niijima. The fact you’re sitting here, striking out against corruption, is what makes it so. And that’s precisely why I want you to lead this charge.”

Sae glanced to her hands.

It was slight. It was hard to discern. But Sae recognized it all the same; they trembled.

She faced the truth of her behavior in court.

The truth of her unintentional role in entrapping the Thieves in Shido’s machinations.

And yet…

For some, inexplicable reason, she thought back to the interrogation with Amamiya, when they discussed the details of Kaneshiro’s defeat.

_“Don’t be ridiculous!” She stood, slapping her hands against the metal table. “This new ally you gained was Makoto?! Just tell me the truth!”_

_He looked up at her, trying to give her an empty stare. But she could see the anger bubbling beneath the surface. His words came out slurred, yet struck her all the same:_

_“You’re clueless, huh?”_

Sae exhaled, bringing her attention back to the present.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t believe I would be a good fit for this position.”

Suou met her eyes. The two stared at each other, silent except for the occasional creak in the building.

A minute passed.

He sighed.

“I understand,” he said, rising from his seat. Sae rose to her feet, surprise crossing her face and she noticed his hand extended towards her. She reached out her own and shook it.

“It’s been a pleasure, Niijima.”

“You as well, sir.”

“Please, call me Katsuya. You may not be joining the team, but I will always consider you an equal.”

“…Thank you.” Sae turned and walked out the door. She thought she heard Suou shuffle around in the office, but the thump of her heart was all that filled her ears.

* * *

Fluorescent lights burned overhead as Sae walked towards the elevators. Her mind was brimming with thoughts of her discussion with Suou; of her Palace; of Makoto; of their father. They threatened to swell and explode, cascading her down a spiral of regret and pain, of memories best left buried in the dirt where he laid.

Sae was so caught up in her thoughts, she didn’t notice the rapidly approaching figure at the intersection of the hallway until they collided. Sae stumbled backwards as the figure fell back onto the ground. Papers flew about the air, fluttering into chaos on the floor.

“Oh no, oh no, oh no!” A woman’s voice. Sae looked down to see the woman’s hands scrambling about the papers. Strands of her raven hair poked out of the neat bun on the back of her head. She wore a formal, ivory dress that reached down to her calves. Sae knelt on the ground, grabbing handfuls of paper.

“Allow me to help,” Sae offered. The woman looked towards her. The first thing Sae noticed was the shimmer in her hazel eyes. 

“Thank you!”

The woman smiled to Sae and looked down to the paper, before seconds later, her eyes snapped back up to Sae, her mouth agape.

“Wait a minute, _Sae Niijima_?!”

Sae raised an eyebrow. “You know of me?”

The woman laughed; it was a light, hearty sound. “Don’t you remember me? We were in the same class at Waseda!”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“We worked on the final project together?”

“…”

“We were up till 3am in the library because you wanted to make sure we memorized the penal code?”

“…”

The woman looked to the side, tugging a bit on the collar of her dress. “I, uh, _slightly_ tore your Phoenix Ranger Featherman wallet when I accidentally knocked it off the table. You uh,” the woman said, giving a nervous chuckle, “threatened to ‘litigate the shit’ out of me.”

“Oh.” Sae’s cheeks burned red. She _definitely_ went to school with this woman.

“Let’s…not talk about that.”

The woman giggled, resuming her pick-up of the papers. Sae joined in. After a few moments, both women stood. Sae placed the handful of the papers back into the other woman’s arms.

“Thank you so much, Niijima-san!” the woman said, bowing.

“It’s no problem…er…” Sae said, glancing to the side.

The woman caught the hint, and chuckled. Sae could see the slightest hint of sadness color her expression. “It’s no worries, it’s been a few years! Lots can happen in that amount of time.”

She held out her hand, grinning.

“Yasuko Hirano, nice to meet you! Er, again that is!”

Sae shook it with a nod.

“Are you new, Hirano-san? Normally they make an announcement regarding the new prosecutors.”

Yasuko grimaced. “I’m actually not a prosecutor. I was coming by to drop off some paperwork…” She looked off to the ground.

Sae simply stared.

It would be a simple process. Sae would press her about the paperwork. Yasuko would try to deflect. Sae would walk up to her, one step at a time, listing the harsh realities of what it meant for a woman to come to the prosecutor’s office, alone. Yasuko’s back would hit the white wall. She’d cower; she’d likely cry.

She’d tell Sae why she was there. Sae would have the answer. She would _win_ , just like she’s _always_ done, just like she _always_ _will_ —

Sae took a deep breath. The temptation withered.

“I see…Well, frankly, it’s of no concern to me why you’re here.”

Yasuko looked to her, tilting her head. Sae couldn’t read the expression. She turned and resumed her walk to the elevator. Not a few seconds later, she heard a rush of footsteps behind her.

“Wait, Niijima-san!”

Sae stopped and watched as Yasuko shuffled to her side. She had a sheepish grin on her face.

“What is it now?”

“You see, this building is just so massive, and I may,” Yasuko chuckled, scratching the back of her neck, “have gotten myself lost.”

Sae pinched the bridge of her nose. “Fine, come with me. I was making my way out for the night regardless.”

She started walking towards the elevator once more. Yasuko joined her in step, the pair ambling in silence through the long hallway. As they rounded one of the last few corners before the elevator, they came upon two detectives in suits, whispering amongst themselves. The men’s eyes rested on Sae; one was glaring, the other, leering. Sae scowled and passed by the two, Yasuko trailing shortly behind her.

Sae felt Yasuko’s gaze on her back but didn’t dare turn around. She wouldn’t give those men the satisfaction. After another turn, the two women came to the elevator. Sae pressed the down button and stepped through the doors.

“Which floor?”

“Oh! Um, whichever the parking garage is on?”

Sae perched by the door, jabbing the “7” and ‘Lobby” buttons harder than she thought. Yasuko stood off on the other end, gaze resting gingerly on Sae.

“Niijima-san…”

“What now?” Sae narrowed her eyes, folding her arms.

Yasuki gave a sad smile. “It really is everywhere, huh?”

She gripped the papers closer to her chest. “I’m sure you remember all those stares we’d get from our classmates. That look of ‘you don’t belong here,’ ‘I wonder what she’s wearing under that,’ and so on.”

Sae remembered it. Vividly. The faces of the men in her classes, their eyes either full of contempt, lust, or both.

“When I was trying to find my way around here, all around me were men talking about you.” Yasuko lowered her voice and waved a finger in front of her. “‘Niijima this, Niijima that. Niijima, Niijima, Niijima.’” Yasuko let out a sad chuckle. “It’s like they’re pissed at you, and for what? Being capable? Doing your job?”

Sae remained silent.

“It feels like no matter where we go or what we do, these men make this super aggressive work environment. Where they promote being ‘inclusive’ to women, yet all they do is dangle the promise of a promotion, better pay, better treatment, right in front of us in hopes that we tear each other apart for their _scraps_.”

She shook her head, scoffing. “It’s _sick_. And then when we are successful, they just tear us down behind our backs to the next woman they see, and keep the cycle going.”

Sae turned to look at the woman. _Really_ look at her.

The playful glint that accentuated the serious look in the woman’s eyes. The teeth once bared in a warm smile now drawn in a scowl.

The look was familiar to Sae; it greeted her every time she’d look in the mirror. Every time she remembered the leers, the jeers, the inappropriate emails. All of it coalesced into a rage she could never describe with words alone.

Sae met her eyes and couldn’t help but offer a small smile.

“For all the years I’ve worked in this building, I don’t believe I’ve ever heard someone so succinctly describe the issues with the current organization.”

Yasuko blinked, and returned the gesture.

“Just a lucky guess based on centuries of the same old bullshit.”

The elevator dinged. The door opened to reveal the spacious, gray parking garage. Fluorescent lights burned down onto the concrete. Yasuko gestured towards the door.

“Well, I guess this is my stop. It was really nice seeing you again, Niijima-san.”

“Best of luck with,” Sae gestured towards the papers in the woman’s arms, “whatever it is that you’re taking care of.” Yasuko nodded with a smile and began to step out of the elevator. She stopped, one foot still in the door, before swiveling around to face Sae.

“Um.”

Sae raised an eyebrow. “Are you about to say you’ve lost track of your vehicle?”

“No! At least, I don’t think I did…” Yasuko shook her head. “That’s not the point! It’s just, it was so good seeing you again, that I thought maybe…you’d like to catch up sometime?” Yasuko bowed her head. “If you’re free that is!”

“There’s no need to bow, Hirano-san,” Sae said. Yasuko lifted her head, face reddened. “My schedule is often rather inflexible, and I’m not one to go out on the town” Sae noticed the crestfallen look on Yasuko’s face. She winced.

She didn’t do friends. She didn’t need anybody other than her family. And yet…

“However, if the occasion happens to arise, I suppose I—”

Yasuko gave her a toothy grin. “That’s great! I mean, let me know, Niijima-san! Here, we should trade numbers while we’re at it, you wouldn’t be able to contact me otherwise, right?”

Sae glanced away, a small blush creeping to her cheeks.

Right. She hadn’t thought about that.

The two traded numbers. Sae asked about Yasuko’s chat ID, though the woman curiously mentioned she didn’t have one. She backed out of the elevator, still waving to Sae as the door closed. The gears of the elevator churned and began its descent again. Sae stared absentmindedly in front of her.

_Yasuko Hirano. For someone forgotten from my past to suddenly show up again…_

The sound of the gears stopped. Sae glanced up at the ticker: _4_. She still had a few floors until she reached her stop. She wondered who would call an elevator so close to the main floor after hours like this.

The door opened: a tall, dark haired man stood before her. His eyes widened upon seeing her.

“Well, well, if it isn’t _the_ Sae Niijima.”

“Sergeant,” Sae replied, giving him an icy stare. She had seen this man a few times during some of her previous cases. She didn’t know much about him, outside of his rank and the way he sauntered throughout the halls of the police department.

The man snorted. “That’s _Inspector_ _Kutsuki_ , Niijima. What, you live under a rock?”

Kutsuki strolled into the elevator beside Sae. He stood with a wide stance; most people would find themselves inching closer to the walls to make themselves smaller to get away.

Sae was not one of them.

Kutsuki peered down at her, smirking.

“Are you uncomfortable, Niijima? You’d have more room if you just stepped aside.”

“I’m perfectly fine as I am. Though, you seem rather uncomfortable, Inspector,” Sae said. “If you _must_ stand like that, you may wish to see a doctor – there’s no need to be embarrassed over penile troubles in this day and age.”

She caught Kutsuki’s eyes widen in rage, and him bare his teeth. He drew his legs back in and stepped further to his left. Sae fought to keep the grin off her face.

“They always said you were a firecracker, Niijima. If only you used some of that with the Phantom Thief you interrogated.”

Sae narrowed her eyes, keeping her attention focused on the elevator door. Kutsuki seemed to have notice.

“Now, now, no need to feel ashamed, Niijima. If anything, that kid was just too tough for you,” Kutsuki gloated, raising a hand to stroke his chin. “Maybe I should have roughed him up just a bit more...”

Silence.

Sae spoke first.

“You were the one who brought in the Phantom Thief.”

Kutsuki turned to her, and grinned.

“Of course. You know how much all of us on the force stood to gain from that arrest? It’s just a shame that rat bastard managed to get away in the end; I could’ve snagged this promotion way earlier,” Kutsuki said, shaking his head. Sae gripped her purse tighter.

“Niijima, you spoke with him,” Kutsuki started, facing the elevator door once more. “You ever think about his teammates? Sold him up a creek and ran with their tails between their legs. I tauntedhim about it, but the thought those cowards are just out there and living free…it’s a damn shame.”

“Perhaps.”

_The real shame here is someone being rewarded after callously beating and drugging a child._

“So nonchalant. Tch, to think _you’re_ Isao Niijima’s daughter,” Kutsuki muttered, adjusting his tie.

Sae turned to him, her glare in full force. Kutsuki glanced at her, unamused.

“Let me tell ya, Isao-san was something else back in the day. Always out on the beat, never coming back empty-handed. It’s a shame he got so damn soft by the end,” Kutsuki mused, before turning his full attention to Sae. He frowned.

“But the biggest shame here, is that he raised a daughter so _weak_ , she would run from his legacy to some cushy job as a defense lawyer. The Isao-san _I_ knew did _anything_ it took for justice.”

A ding. The elevator door opened, and Kutsuki sauntered out. He looked behind to Sae one last time.

“But I guess you knew him better, yeah?”

The door shut, leaving Sae to herself. She clutched the strap of her purse. Her free hand balled into a fist.

No matter what she did.

No matter how much better she was than the rest.

It was always the exact, same, _shit_.

Sae unclenched her fist. She brought her hand into her pocket, tugging her phone out. It was easy to find the one she was searching for; the only other contact on her phone was Makoto. As soon as she heard the cheerful hello, Sae put her best effort into burying the venom threatening to leak from her voice:

“Hirano-san, I want to take you up on your offer. Let’s go for drinks tomorrow night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So quick thoughts I had with some characters in this chapter, since there's a lot of new names.
> 
> Sae: This is the first chapter from Sae's POV. I think it's definitely a challenge coming from Makoto, whose thoughts are so apparent in the game because of her role, and that we don't really get to see what's going on for Sae internally outside of a few scenes & her Palace. I wanted to approach her as someone who, while changed, still struggles with all that led to her Palace. I like to believe she's like Futaba in that sense: someone who still has more ongoing work to do to get to the place they want to be. 
> 
> Yasuko Hirano: She is going to be the only real OC I'm planning to have in this fic. Originally wasn't planning to have any at all, but I wanted to have someone Sae could have a more equal footed rapport with. I had thoughts about having this role be fulfilled by one of the other adult women confidants, but Tae came off the best choice of them, and since she's going to be providing therapy for Sae & Makoto, it would be a conflict of interest (and also unethical lol).
> 
> Inspector Kutsuki: As mentioned, he's the detective that assaulted & drugged Joker during his arrest. He wasn't named in the game, but I wanted to have him show up as a way to further show just how fucked Sae's work environment has been, that a man who assaulted a minor was rewarded with a promotion while Sae has gotten nothing.
> 
> Isao Niijima: Sae & Makoto's father. He & Mom Niijima will be brought up more. 
> 
> Katsuya Suou: in this house we remember & respect the persona 2 duology (@ atlus where are the modern console remasters)
> 
> Again, Chapter 6 will be coming by 6/26. As always, I hope you and your loved ones are all staying safe out there!


	6. The Daze of Sisters: Sae II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO UPDATE PART 2

**FRIDAY, JULY 28 TH, 2017**

**Early Evening / Crossroads Bar**

**Days Until Counseling Appointment: 1**

A lovely piano melody hummed in the air, accentuated by the drifting scent of alcohol throughout the pink bar room. Sae sat alone at the bar, watching the numerous, small gaggles of people that dotted themselves around the venue.

She had never been to a bar before. Then again, she always made explicit efforts to avoid Shinjuku as much as possible. Not only had her father been heavily involved with the crime clean-up, but her name & face had been frequently displayed in relation to the Shido case for the last few months.

Sae Niijima being in Shinjuku was just trouble waiting to happen.

Hence, why she currently wore a _much_ more casual outfit than she was accustomed to. Her usual dress suit was replaced by a burgundy button down and well-worn black leggings from her college years. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, and her fake glasses were an uncomfortable weight atop the bridge of her nose.

To everyone else in the area, she probably just looked like another college student strolling around for booze.

They were at least right about the booze.

Sae heard the door open. Yasuko, dressed in a green blouse and black jeans, entered the bar. Her hair was out of its bun, the dark strands cascading down to her shoulders. Sunglasses rested snug against her face. She seemed to scan around the room for a moment, knuckles white as she gripped the door. Soon enough, she caught Sae’s eye and made a beeline for the nearest barstool. Once seated, she carefully removed the sunglasses, hazel eyes beaming.

“It’s good to see you Nii—”

Sae whispered a harsh “shh,” her eyes quickly glancing around the room. No one seemed to have noticed. Yasuko merely blinked.

“My family name is a rather…hot topic, in these parts. Please, just refer to me by my given name.”

Yasuko’s eyes widened. “Oh! Wow. O-okay, you’ve got it Nii—I-I mean, Sae! Sae.”

Sae noticed the spreading blush on Yasuko’s face. She chalked it up to the “pregaming” phenomenon her contemporaries often engaged in during law school. Given this location was Yasuko’s recommendation, she could only assume she was rather versed in the rituals of drinking nights. Yasuko shook her head, smiling sheepishly.

“In that case, _Sae_ , why don’t you just call me Yasuko? It’ll probably be easier if we’re on the same footing.”

“…Very well, Yasuko.”

The woman smile only grew; it was bright, cheerful.

“So…have you ordered any drinks yet?”

“No. I’m quite unfamiliar with this…activity, in general, and wanted to wait until you arrived.”

Yasuko’s smile faded as her eyebrows shot up. “Wait, you’ve never been to a bar?”

“No, I had better use of my time in college—”

Yasuko folded her arms against her chest with a knowing smirk.

“You were _totally_ watching Featherman when we weren’t in class, weren’t you?”

“…It was helpful to have on in the background while studying,” Sae mumbled, the beginnings of a blush rising to her cheeks. Yasuko laughed.

“In that case, I’ll just have to give you a crash course in Alcohol 101,” she said, waving her hand in the air for the server. A large woman with purple hair walked up to them from behind the booth. She had a cigarette in one hand, and a notepad in the other. She smiled upon seeing Yasuko.

“Well, look who we have here!” The woman said, flicking her cigarette into the trash. Yasuko rose from her stool to give her a hug.

“Come on, Lala-chan, it’s only been a couple months.”

“You know I worry, hun.” The two women broke their embrace. Yasuko returned to her seat as Lala looked Sae up and down.

“She a friend of yours, Koko-chan?”

_Koko-chan?_

Lala leaned in a bit, a sultry smile on her face. “Or is she a _girlfriend_?” Yasuko’s eyes widened. A profuse blush spread across her face.

“Sh-she’s an old law school friend! Why do you have to tease me like this all the time!?”

Lala laughed. “I can’t help it, you’re just _so_ cute when you get flustered.” Yasuko rolled her eyes with a playful smile. Lala turned her attention to Sae.

“Do you have a name, ‘Law School Friend’?”

“Sae.”

“Sae…?”

“Just Sae.”

Lala quirked an eyebrow. “Hun, I’ve been in Shinjuku long enough to know that when someone only gives their given name, they’ve got something to hide.”

Sae narrowed her eyes. “It’s interesting that you comment on my only providing my given name, when you’ve done the same, _Lala_ -san.”

Lala’s eyes met her own for a moment. The bartender grinned. “ _Escargot_. Like the delicacy.”

Sae’s expression softened. Lala let out a small chuckle.

“Don’t worry, dear, you’re allowed to have secrets, even if it hurts my gossip intake for the evening. Besides, any _friend_ ,” Lala said, winking towards Yasuko, “of Koko-chan is fine in my book.”

“Thank you, Escargot-san.”

“Honey, _please_! Call me Lala-chan.”

“…Thank you, Lala-san.”

Lala looked at her once more and shrugged. “Eh, close enough.” Yasuko giggled at that.

“Now that introductions are done,” Yasuko said, grinning. “Let’s get our booze on!”

“You’re sounding like Ichiko-chan,” Lala groaned, pulling a pencil from her hair and pressing it to the paper. “But keep in mind, I will be cutting you off if you start getting too tipsy, understood?”

“That will not be a problem. If she becomes too intoxicated, I will ensure Yasuko makes it home safely,” Sae announced. Lala nodded, a playful twinkle in her eyes.

“Do you take your drinks as stiff as your language, hun?” Lala chuckled. The faintest blush crept on Sae’s cheeks.

“Oh, I’m just teasing! Who knew you’d be so much easier to fluster than Koko-chan!” Lala chuckled, holding a hand to her chest.

“You know, it actually reminds me of another young woman from about a year back…” Lala did another look over Sae, gears seemingly turning in her head. Sae was about to ask what that comment was implying when Lala shrugged.

“In any case, what can I get you started with?”

Yasuko clapped her hands together, drawing Sae’s attention. She grinned.

“Ready for Alcohol 101?”

Sae, to her own surprise, smiled back.

“Let’s begin.”

* * *

"Do you recall that incident during Dr. Wada’s class?"

"Oh, you mean in second year, right?"

"Yes. It was quite irritating that I studied so thoroughly, just for the exam to be cancelled for some minor altercation."

"Sae, a bear was _running through the hallways_."

* * *

"So, wait, your first case did WHAT?"

"Frankly, it was embarrassing for that to be my first assignment. Armed robbery for a handful of Pokémon cards..."

"Which were they?"

"I believe my client said they were printings from the first theatrical movie release?"

"Uh, Sae? These days they're kind of worth..." Yasuko whispered in her ear. Sae's eyes widened.

"How on earth are children's cards worth _that_ much?"

* * *

“Yasuko, I’m curious. You said you mentioned you were not working as a prosecutor. What career have you chosen to take up?”

“I’m working as an assistant over in the Diet Building. Not the best, but it pays the bills.”

“The Diet Building, huh…” Sae murmured.

“Yeah, it’s been…intense, these last few months, given everything. But rather that than have nothing to do all day, right?”

“I suppose that’s true. Which politician do you assist?”

Yasuko tensed for a moment. Sae raised an eyebrow, watching as Yasuko spun a straw around her cocktail.

“I’m…kind of just floating around right now, helping out different ones here and there. I had been working for a specific one, but…” Yasuko trailed off, for a moment, staring down at her drink. She shook her head.

“Actually, let’s not talk about work,” Yasuko replied. She picked up her drink, taking a long sip. “We’re here to get a break from men like that, right?”

Sae stared at the woman next to her for another few seconds, before returning to her own drink.

* * *

"My sister is actually studying law at Tokyo University now," Sae stated, taking a sip of a blue margarita. Three empty glasses sat to her left. Her body felt warm and relaxed for the first time in months.

"That’s amazing! Her name was…uh, Mikoto?"

"Close. Makoto."

"Is she thinking of going the prosecutor route too?"

"I don't actually know. She hasn’t told me..."

"Oh..."

“What about you, Yasuko? How is your family doing?”

“Well, neither of my parents are here anymore, I’m afraid.”

“My condolences.”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s been a few years.” Yasuko sloshed the straw around in her third drink for the night. “I keep meaning to go visit their graves, but things just haven’t worked out yet.”

“I see…”

Sae couldn’t remember the last time she visited her parents’ graves. In the past, it felt like she visited her mother every chance she could get. Regale her with stories of school, Makoto starting elementary school, and all her hopes and dreams.

But then, their father died. Buried next to their mother with a joint tombstone he specifically commissioned in case of death. She hadn’t visited since his burial, and she saw no need to do it. He ruined that space for her.

 _Just like everything else_.

“Sae?”

Her attention came back to Yasuko.

“Sorry…I was just lost in thought for a moment. That must be incredibly challenging for you.”

“It is, but you always have to keep pushing ahead, right?” Yasuko said, gaze shifting towards her drink.

“Even if it’s terrifying…”

Sae was about to try to comfort her when Lala strolled up to their seats. Yasuko immediately perked up, forcing a smile to her face.

“Heyyy Lala-chan! Another round of drinks, please!”

Lala looked Yasuko over.

“No can do, hon. If you have another drink, you’ll be bumbling your way through the streets. I’ll ring your bill up.”

Yasuko groaned, exaggeratedly placing her head on the counter.

“Sae,” Lala called from the cash register. “Can you make sure Koko-chan gets home alright?”

“Yes, will do.”

“As for you,” Lala said, craning her head to look at Yasuko. Her face was solemn. “Try not to be such a stranger anymore, hun. The others have been asking after you every Tuesday.”

Yasuko raised her head; Sae noticed the sadness punctuating her features. “I’ll try to visit more often. It’s…just been busy these last few months.” Lala stared for a few more seconds, before focusing on the register once more.

“Is everything okay?” Sae’s voice was surprisingly gentle.

“Yeah…it’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” Yasuko smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. In her stomach, Sae felt that familiar temptation creep through her veins, beckoning her to give in. She pushed the thought aside.

“Well then, how about we head home for the night?”

Yasuko nodded. The pair proceeded to pay for their drinks and shared a generous tip with Lala. After confirming Yasuko could walk on her own, Sae began to walk with the woman out the door.

* * *

**FRIDAY, JULY 28 TH, 2017**

**Evening / Shinjuku**

**Days Until Counseling Appointment: 1**

Warm, summer winds kissed her cheek as Sae led Yasuko towards the Shinjuku Station. Miraculously, they hadn’t been accosted by any of the local club hosts; Sae hoped it was coincidental, though noted the large crowd of college students mingling about the district. The warmth surging through her body had faded a bit, but she was eager all the same to return home to prepare for tomorrow.

She and Makoto would have their intake appointment in under 16 hours. Although Sae had spent her lunch break earlier today combing over information about therapy sessions, there was still a level of uncertainty to the task that unnerved her.

Unlike Makoto, Sae’s response to feelings was something she took from their father: dissecting them internally, never expressing them unless it sneaks its way out of their mouths. Sae didn’t know how she would respond, much less, what she would even talk about.

She shook her head. Thinking about it in Shinjuku wasn’t getting her anyway. She needed rest. And she needed to get Yasuko home safely. In the distance, she could see the stairs leading down to the station check-in.

“We should be arriving soon,” Sae announced, turning to face the other woman. She was nowhere to be found.

“Yasuko? Yasuko!”

“Sae! Over here!” Sae whipped around to the source of the voice. She found Yasuko waving her arms over her head, smiling. Sae narrowed her eyes and began to approach. She could see Yasuko standing before a purple table. An assortment of candles and pins sat on both ends. A blonde, young woman sat behind it, wearing a lilac dress with purple tights.

“Why did you run off like that? In _Shinjuku_ of all places?” Sae asked, folding her arms against her chest.

“She’s a fortune teller, Sae! I know we have to get home, but when else could we have a chance like this?”

“I’m actually here throughout the whole day…,” the woman added, smiling between Sae and Yasuko.

“…But when else could we have a chance without having to trek _all the way_ back out here during the day?”

Sae groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Fine, go ahead.”

Yasuko cheered, and turned her attention to the woman at the table.

“Hello there! My name is Chihaya Mifune. I will be reading your fortune. You can begin by telling me your name.”

“Yasuko Hirano.”

“I see, pleasant to meet you Hirano-san. Given your excitement, you seem quite versed in fortunes. Is there a certain reading you would like for today?”

“Certain reading?” Sae asked, raising an eyebrow.

Chihaya simply smiled at Sae. “Yes, there are various kinds of Tarot readings I offer,” she began, counting them off on her fingers. “Luck, Money, Affinity, Special Fate, Celestial, and Special Bond.”

Sae merely blinked at her.

“That sounds ridiculous.”

Chihaya rose from her chair, glaring. “If yer so dang judgmental, ah don’t hafta give you diddly squat! Why don’t yah just stand back and ah’ll read for yer friend here!” Sae’s eyes widened. Yasuko’s mouth was agape. Chihaya covered her mouth with a hand, immediately taking her seat back.

“M-my apologies, my hometown dialect comes out when I’m stressed. This is so embarrassing…”

Sae leaned over towards Yasuko; “Perhaps we should go. She doesn’t seem quite…prepared, now.”

Chihaya waved her arms. “No, no, no! It’s fine, please don’t run off. How about I… offer you both fortunes on the house?”

Yasuko grinned. “I was all for it before, but now I’m even more sure!”

Sae heaved a heavy sigh.

Yasuko took a seat at the table. She requested an affinity reading. Sae watched indifferently as Chihaya dealt out the cards and began to flip them over one by one. Chihaya hummed a few times before flipping over the last card: _Le Judgement_.

“It appears there will be strong potential to forge a powerful relationship with a figure from your past.” Yasuko snuck a glance at Sae as she rose from her seat. Sae narrowed her eyes and took her place. She turned her attention to Chihaya, the fortune teller sizing her up.

“I apologize for our previous interaction. It was quite rude of me.”

“Don’t be concerned about it, Mifune-san.”

Sae gave a skeptical glance to the deck of cards before her.

“I take it you’re not familiar with Tarot readings?”

“I was never particularly interested in the occult.”

“I can’t say I blame you,” Chihaya said, shuffling the cards around the table. “I doubt it would help much in your field of work.”

A beat passed.

“…No, it would not.”

“Would you like me to begin your reading?”

“Shouldn’t you ask my name first?” Sae narrowed her eyes.

Chihaya glanced up at her. “I believe you’re trying to avoid saying it, correct?”

Sae leaned in, whispering so only Chihaya could hear. “Who are you?”

Chihaya merely smiled, raising a hand to tap on the leftmost edge of the table. Sae’s gaze followed, stopping at a small pin with the Phantom Thieves logo on it.

“I received a great help from a young man a few months back. His ability to defy fate mystified me, and his kindness saved me,” Chihaya explained, a fond smile crossing her face.

“In reading my fortune this morning, the cards told me I would meet another in his network. And well, any ally of his is a friend of mine.”

For some reason, a thought crossed Sae’s mind. What Amamiya shared yesterday about “gossping with the bartender, the reporter, and the fortune-teller.”

Bartender and fortune-teller…

 _Damn him_.

Sae sat back in the chair, arms crossed. She had a sour expression on her face. “Very well, Mifune-san. Let’s get this over with.”

“Since you’re new to readings, I’ll do a basic one for you. I would like you to think of a specific person important to you, and for you to draw five cards from this deck,” Chihaya explained, holding the deck out to Sae.

Sae scoffed, closing her eyes.

A specific person important to her…

All she could think of, was Makoto.

Sae grabbed cards one at a time, until five rested in her hand. She opened her eyes as Chihaya took them and laid them out on by one on the table.

“The order is particularly important for this kind of reading. First, we’ll begin with the card that best represents you.” Chihaya flipped over the first card: _Le Judgment_.

Sae fought to suppress a groan. So, this woman was the one that gave Amamiya the inspiration for that dreadful moniker. Wonderful.

“This next card represents the person you thought of.” Chihaya flipped the second card: _La Papesse_.

“The Priestess,” Chihaya hummed. She brought her hand over the last set of three cards. “These next three, in order, describe your current situation with this person, the obstacle facing you both, and the advice the cards have for you in overcoming this struggle.”

Sae gave a skeptical nod.

“For your current situation…ah, the Upright Tower. Currently, there is a great disturbance in this relationship. There may have been a series of events which have left things tense or in flux, for both of you.”

Sae thought of the last year. The Metaverse, Kaneshiro, Shido, Palaces, a false god.

It fit the bill.

“For the next card…Reversed Death. There may be an opportunity to overcome this disturbance, but it is impeded by the past. Either an inability or unwillingness to face what has happened before.”

Sae remained silent.

“And finally, the cards’ advice,” Chihaya announced, flipping over the final card. An image of several people and a baby sat in the frame. The card was facing upside down.

“The Reversed Lovers. In this position, the card represents self-reflection. To overcome the past, you must evaluate yourself, the words and actions you’ve taken, to see if you are truly in step with the values you hold dearest.”

Sae could only stare as Chihaya shuffled the cards back into the deck.

_The values I hold dearest?_

Sae thought of the justice she lost sight of. The path of constant, bitter strife she had subjected herself to all for the sake of her career, her future.

She thought of Makoto’s sudden request for therapy.

Are they connected?

Sae was shaken from her thoughts by a hand on her shoulder – Yasuko. The woman smiled at her.

“We should probably get going now, right Sae?”

“…Yes,” Sae replied, forcing herself up from the chair. Every part of her was tense. “We should return home while the trains are still operating.” She turned to face Chihaya once more.

“Thank you, Mifune-san.”

“You’re welcome! I hope to see you again someday!”

Sae said nothing in return. She and Yasuko maneuvered through the streets to the station terminal. They stood before the gate for Odaiba.

“Well, this is my gate…” Yasuko announced.

“Are you certain you’ll be able to make it home safely?”

Yasuko rolled her eyes. “Sae, please. I’ve stumbled around this town _way_ drunker—” She caught Sae’s glare, allowing herself to trail off.

“A-anyway, I should get going,” she began, rubbing the back of her head.

“That you should,” Sae smiled. Yasuko went silent for a moment, before taking a deep breath.

“It was fun! Y-you know, catching up and spending time together like that. It’s…been a while, since I’ve really had anyone to go out with like that. It was really nice.”

Sae met her eyes, and chuckled. “I’ve been in the same boat myself. It was enjoyable to be able to spend time with another woman.”

“Would you like to do it again?” Yasuko whispered, staring at the floor.

“Hm?”

“Hang out, I mean. I had a lot of fun, and it was probably a good change of pace for us both. I mean, if you’re not too busy that is! Of course, you _are_ , you’re handling so much—”

“I’d like to.” Sae watched as Yasuko stared at her, wide-eyed. She wasn’t sure if it was the remnants of her buzz or something Chihaya or Lala had said. But for some reason she couldn’t quite put a finger on, she enjoyed her time with the other woman. She felt...at ease with her.

“Of course, I can’t guarantee what my schedule will be like too far in advance, but—”

“Yes! Absolutely! How about next Friday, same spot and time?”

“…Sure,” Sae said, letting out a sigh. Yasuko cheered as her train pulled up to the gate. With a wave, she set off from Sae and boarded. Sae watched the train speed off towards the Odaiba Station as she made her way to her own gate.

She slipped through the knot of passengers and found a seat by the window, allowing herself a moment to admire the city lights.

Her thoughts weaved; between the meeting with Suou and the encounter with Kutsuki. Speaking to Lala and spending the evening with Yasuko. The fortune Chihaya gave.

Over the course of her life thus far, Sae had lost many things.

She lost her mother.

She lost her father (but he was already gone to her before then).

She even lost her way, until Makoto gave it back to her.

Makoto had given time and time again, to her, to the world. Justice, hope, and the freedom to choose.

She would _not_ lose Makoto.

In the citylit window of the train, Sae clenched her fists, looking to the sky. She didn’t know what waited for her with the therapy appointments. She didn’t know what obstacles Chihaya’s fortune meant. All she did know, was one simple resolution deep down in her heart: She would not lose _anything_ else.

She would _win_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE DAZE OF SISTERS concludes in Chapter 7, coming on 7/6*! 
> 
> So I've been dumping songs in a Spotify playlist to listen to while I work on this story. I haven't quite finished it putting the playlist together yet, but this is a song that I listened to a lot while working on this part: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u_KxKCKJPdo
> 
> *There may be a slight delay depending on how long it takes to edit. At most, I anticipate it will be posted by 7/13 at the latest.


	7. The Daze of Sisters: Makoto I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANOTHER TWO-FER BAYBEEEEE

**THURSDAY, JULY 27 TH, 2017**

**Evening / Makoto’s Apartment**

**Days Until Counseling Appointment: 2**

“Do you need me to get the lock?”

“I have it handled.”

“Makoto, you’ve got your other hand wrapped around the milk and the meat bags like it’s the last Buchimaru in Japan. I’ve got the door.”

“I _said_ I’ll handle it, Ren.”

“Makoto…”

“Fine, open the door then.”

Moonlight poured into the apartment as the couple waddled inside. The crinkling of tussled grocery bags filled the air. Ren set his down first, fumbling around for the light switch. Makoto dropped hers to the floor, sensation finally returning to her aching fingers.

They had gone shopping after the movie. Makoto tried to assure him he didn’t need to do anything extravagant before he went back to Leblanc tomorrow night, but her boyfriend insisted on doing meal prep for her for the week. Normally, it would be the sweetest thing in the world. But right now…

She sighed, closing her eyes as the fluorescent lights popped on around her and the door closed. A dull ache permeated throughout her body. She wanted nothing more than to collapse back into the couch. To curl up into a ball and into herself. Alone.

She slowly opened her eyes, finding Ren standing above her. His nose was scrunched up, and a question ready upon his lips. Makoto held up a hand, offering a forced smile.

“I’m fine, Ren. Let’s just put the groceries away.”

“Are you sure?”

Makoto didn’t reply; she rose to her feet, strolling into the kitchen. Ren’s footsteps trailed closely behind her; she tried to ignore the urgency in them. The pair began to silently unpack the groceries, the only sounds between them were the shuffling of their feet, the rustle of bags, and the “whop” of the fridge opening and closing.

Makoto was emptying the meat bag as her thoughts drifted to the afternoon at Leblanc. The first time she’d spoken with her sister in months, and all she did was let Sae dominate the conversation while she relied on the same mask as always.

Over the years, there were many masks she came to embrace. “Makoto: The Sycophant,” “Makoto: The Student Council President,” “Makoto: The Honors Student;” but none of them felt as right as “Queen” had. There was a snugness to that mask, a comfort that washed over her every time she entered the Metaverse and felt her Persona’s voice, somehow both foreign and yet her own, course through her.

But the Metaverse was gone. _Queen_ was gone. Makoto set the empty bag aside, staring down at the granite countertop. A vague, muddled reflection of herself was all that stared back.

Suddenly, she felt the press of something pillow-y against her back. She glanced behind her, finding Ren with comically large, inflatable boxing gloves. Many questions circulated around her mind, as she watched her boyfriend give her that adorably attractive Joker smirk.

Makoto raised an eyebrow, unable to hide the tiny trace of amusement in her voice. “Ren. I have multiple questions.”

He attempted to cross his arms as best he could. “Well, let’s see if I can predict them. First, I did, in fact, finish putting away the rest of the groceries.” Makoto looked around the kitchen, finding everything put away. She nodded in approval.

“Next, I tiptoed off while you were lost in thought.”

“Are you _sure_ you’re not part cat?” Makoto smirked.

“With how early _Morgana_ tries to sleep?” Ren asked, an exaggerated offended look crossing his face. “I’m definitely not part cat.”

“And these…?” Makoto asked, gesturing towards the inflatable boxing gloves. They had images of Jack Frost on the front.

“Jack’Em Boppers. They were pretty popular in my folks’ town when I was younger,” Ren explained.

“Adorable, but that doesn’t explain why you have them with you now.”

Ren grinned, slipping one of the inflatables off his hand and placing in on her left hand. He hit his glove against hers, a squeak emitting from the collision. 

“So, we can spar, of course.”

For her part, Makoto tried not to laugh. She tried to cover her mouth with a hand, but immediately brought the comically large glove in front of her face. She let out a chuckle.

“Ren, we can’t spar with these!”

He flashed a devious smile. He brushed the glove from her face and made a jab towards her stomach. Makoto brought the glove before her midsection, watching his bounce off from the impact. He quirked an eyebrow.

“You were saying?”

“Allow me to rephrase that: I am not going to _spar you in my kitchen_.”

“Would you prefer the bed, then?”

“W-w-w-what?!” Makoto turned red. Ren took the opportunity to jab at her leg with the glove. When it connected, he scooted back, jumping in place. Makoto looked at him, scandalized.

“You said that on purpose!”

“All’s fair in love and war, Buchi-booboo. That makes it 0-1.”

Makoto pouted, getting into a fighting stance.

“May I remind you how many of our spars you’ve lost, _dearest_ Ren?”

“Uh…” He quickly brought his glove in front of him as Makoto slid towards him, her glove angled for his upper chest. She used the recoil from the impact to swing downwards, hitting him in the knee.

“What was the score again,” Makoto asked, fluttering her eyelids. “I seem to have lost track.” Ren rolled his eyes, bringing the glove in front of him once more.

“I’ll tell you on one condition.”

“Which is…?”

“What happened with your stomach on the train this morning? And Leblanc, with the booth seat?”

Makoto’s eyes narrowed. “That’s two conditions, you know.”

“You’re changing the subject again.”

“It’s not anything important.”

“Mako—”

“Ren,” she interrupted, raising her fists. “If you want me to explain, you have to _win_. We’re tied, are we not?” She cracked her neck.

Ren met her eyes, then raised his own fists. The hardwood floor knocked as the two charged at each other. Ren’s glove went for her face. She ducked, angling her own for a hit on his chest.

She gasped. Ren’s left hand pushed her glove back. She saw him pull his right hand back, Jack Frost’s face tauntingly close. Alarms sounded in Makoto’s head. Thoughts from the day crossed her mind. Her anger at her enemies.

Her anger at Sae.

> The thought of Sae towering over her, glaring at her as though she, a mere _child_ , had done something so unforgivable in simply _existing_ made her want to ram her _fist_ —
> 
> Makoto took a moment to picture his face, really _see_ Kobayakawa. Her lips curled up to a snarl. She slammed her fist back into the booth seat—
> 
> _**You don’t “see” how much I want to throw one of my course books at—** _
> 
> _**I could easily lob a fist—** _
> 
> _**What would it be like to have my justice with her?** _

_I don’t want to worry him, it'll distract him from finding the success he deserves! I can’t worry him...! Don’t let him win, don’t let him win, DON’T LET HIM IN DON’T LET HIM IN **DON’TLETHIMINDON’TLETHIMINDON'TLETHIMIN!!!!!**_

Makoto spun out of his right hand’s reach. She brought her gloved fist straight right into Ren’s face. A “pop” burst through the air. He stumbled backwards, falling on his butt. Makoto raised shaky eyes to her left fist, still outstretched. The glove deflated, a giant hole sitting where Jack Frost once was.

Ren raised his left hand to his jaw, massaging it. “I forgot you have a _hell_ of a left hook,” he joked. Makoto slowly shook her head, letting the popped glove plop to the ground.

“Ren…I…”

“Makoto, it’s o—”

“How can you say that was okay!?” she yelled. Her stomach lurched. “It’s not okay, none of this is okay…”

She met his eyes. The concern was clear on his face. He rose to his feet, walking towards her. He tried to place a hand on her cheek, but she turned away, angling her body towards the bathroom.

“Makoto, why don’t you just take a bath and head to bed? I’ll handle the rest of this stuff and join up with you once I’m done, okay?”

She only nodded, walking towards the bathroom. She took another two steps before stopping.

“…Kobayakawa and Sis.”

“Hm?”

She exhaled. “Thinking about how things with Sis were, on the train. And thinking about what Kobayakawa made me do to you, while you were talking with Sis at Leblanc. I…I don’t want to talk about it much more than that. Not right now.”

“I understand. And Makoto?”

“Yes?”

“I texted the others, about what happened in Mementos back in November. It’s a tight window, but everyone should be free in the afternoon tomorrow so we can talk with you about it.”

“…Thank you, Ren,” she whispered.

"I love you, Makoto."

She turned her head back, mustering as much of a smile she could. "I love you, too," she whispered, resuming her walk to the bathroom.

Through the shower and laying in bed in her Buchimaru pajamas, Makoto’s mind wandered.

As Queen, her anger had been a fine-tuned weapon. She knew how to channel it, how to let it out without concern. She raised her hands in the soft rays of starlight peeking through the blinds. Where they once stood firm, they now trembled.

She lowered them to her side, sighing. Makoto cast a tired glance over to the dresser right beside her. A single, framed picture of her and her father sat. He was holding her in her arms, his uniform cap strewn about her head.

“You’d know what I should do…”

As she drifted into sleep, Makoto couldn’t help but feel the same wish of the last three years at the front of her mind.

One more day with her father again.

* * *

**???, 20XX**

**??? / Shibuya Station**

The cacophony of the crowd’s chatter harmonized in the air. Makoto strode forward with a bounce in her step and a warm smile on her face. A baby blue parcel rested in her gloved hands. To her left was Sae, free of tension and stress, content to spend a day off with her loved ones.

To her right, a tall man with a five-o clock shadow and silver hair. A police badge shone in the sunlight, a radiant glow against his blue uniform. His reddish-brown eyes found her own, and he grinned.

“So,” he said, gesturing to the parcel, “when am I meeting him?”

She blushed. “Dad!”

The man – Isao Niijima, laughed; his voice was a hearty baritone that seemed to echo in the air. “You can’t hide him from me forever, Makoto.”

“Ren’s just been busy lately!”

“Busy enough that he’s been able to get out of meeting our father for the last five _months_?” Sae teased, poking her in the cheek. Makoto playfully slapped her hand away, pouting.

“W-well yes! He promised Boss he would help him with the café during his off days from school.”

Her father nodded. “He sounds quite reliable.”

“From what Makoto’s shared, Ren-kun has been helpful in her efforts around Shujin,” Sae declared, ruffling her hair. For some reason Makoto couldn’t place, hearing her sister say Ren’s given name felt unnatural. It felt _wrong._

“What’s been happening at school?” Her father’s voice snapped Makoto from her thoughts. She took a moment to survey her father’s face; the mirth had fallen away, wrinkles of concern quickly creeping into place.

“It was…Principal Kobayakawa,” Makoto winced. “He had tried to force me to investigate some rumored illicit activities that students were getting involved in.” She looked at her father; a slight quiver in his lower lip, and a vein that pulsated in his brow. All familiar signs of irritation, the same Sae would give her whenever she asked about—

“But then I spoke to Ren about it,” Makoto continued, pushing past the sudden pain that rocketed through her skull. “He helped me to organize the student body to bring light to it. Now the student council and I are working with the faculty and student representatives to ensure such extortive acts never take place again.”

Her father stopped walking. Sae and Makoto paused slightly ahead of him, exchanging a quick glance with one another.

“Why didn’t you – _either_ of you,” Isao said, motioning towards Sae, “tell me about this?” Sae started to open her mouth in reply, but Makoto stepped forward.

“I didn’t want you to worry, Dad. You already have to do so _much_ for work, you shouldn’t have to be burdened by my problems,” Makoto explained, gripping the package tighter. In the furthest corners of her mind, her own voice, small and fearful, reverberated: _I didn’t want to be useless._

She didn’t realize her father’s approach until his hand rested gingerly on her head. Makoto looked up, greeted by that ever-optimistic smile that used to greet her every day until he—

_Until he…_

“Mako, you and Sae will never burden me. I’m just sad that you felt that you had to shoulder this all your own.”

“Dad…”

“But I guess that’s inevitable. A public prosecutor and a soon to be Waseda University student; you’re both growing up.”

Makoto’s head throbbed. A memory came to mind. Her standing in front of Sae, a letter in her hand. Sae’s voice dripping with disappointment: _“You didn’t get accepted? Well, I suppose the Niijima tradition of attending Waseda would have to break at some point.”_

“A father couldn’t be prouder. You don’t have to rely on your old man as much anymore.” Another memory sprang to mind. Her at the dinner table with Sae, her sister’s voice booming all around her: _“Isn’t it time you grew up and acknowledged our situation?”_

Suddenly, the parcel fell to the ground with a thud. She wrapped her arms around her father, burying her head into his chest. Much like she did as a toddler whenever he’d leave out for a night on the beat. Much like she had the last time she saw him the night of the accident—

“I’ll-I’ll always rely on you, Dad!” she sobbed, grip around him tightening. As if she let go for even a moment, he would slip between her fingers like smoke. She felt a hand on her shoulder: Sae.

“Such a silly girl,” Sae mused.

Makoto pulled herself up, looking between her father and sister; both wore warm, heartfelt smiles. It was everything she ever dreamed.

But her father was dead. Her sister had been cold, harsh, distant for years.

In her heart of hearts, she knew this was wrong.

Yet she just wanted this one, tiny window of selfishness. Where she could go home to adoring faces instead of the same vacant, joyless apartment.

She sniffled, pulling herself out of her father’s embrace. It was then, in the distance, that she saw him. Emerging from the ever-moving crowd was the familiar black, fluffy head of hair she grew to adore.

“Ren?”

Sae and her father’s heads turned towards the boy. Sae’s lips pulled into a small smile; her father’s drew into a line. Ren slowly approached them, bangs obscuring his eyes. Makoto drew him into an embrace the moment he was in arm’s reach.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you today.” She brushed the hair from his eyes. They were red, puffy, as if he had just been crying. Deep purple and black bags hung underneath them. He met her eyes for the briefest moment before looking past her.

“So, you’re ‘Ren-kun,’ eh?” her father called, taking measured steps towards the couple. Ren seemed to straighten near instantly, forgoing his usual slouch.

“Yes, I am. It’s nice to meet you, Niijima-san…” he trailed off. Her father slapped a hand onto his shoulder. He gave Ren a once over, before smirking.

“Please, call me Isao-san. Makoto’s told me good things about you. As far as I’m concerned, my daughter’s judgment is more than enough.” He winked towards Makoto. She smiled, but it did not quite reach her eyes. Her hand, trembling, found Ren’s, and interlocked their fingers together. Ren said nothing in reply.

“Quieter than usual, isn’t he Makoto?” Sae teased, offering Ren a chillingly soft smile. “Are you going to invite him to dinner?”

“Dinner?” Ren parroted. He didn’t look away from Makoto.

“Yes, we’re having a special dinner to celebrate Dad receiving the superintendent general award,” Makoto explained, eyes glued to her boyfriend. Her grip on his hand tightened. “He’s finally getting the recognition he deserves.”

The words had a familiarity to them she didn’t dare speak. Ren continued to stare at her – _through_ her, as if he were peering directly into her thoughts. Almost as if he knew, that she knew, that it was all a lie. Her bottom lip quivered; his voice was low, almost a whisper.

“Enjoying the family time?”

The floor cracked all around them. Makoto’s eyes widened, but everyone around her seemed to carry on as though nothing happened. Sae and her father had smiles plastered onto their face, unmoving. Ren’s hand still grasped hers. Makoto looked to him, tears brimming in her eyes. She remembered what this was.

Voices boomed in the air around them:

_“I wouldn’t expect a child to understand.”_

_“By the way, Makoto, ain’t there someone you can’t forgive either? Like, a heart you wanna change?"_

_“I’ll be frank: I wish to trigger a change of heart in Sae-san.”_

_"I work myself to death for you, Makoto, and you can’t even cook a simple dinner? If you just did what I asked of you, things would be better between us.”_

_“_ _Niijima-san! Everyone has the right to wish for a happy family. You don't need to keep holding back your desires!”_

_“I finally found a place where I belong…”_

“Ren…please don’t do this to me…”

“Are you and Sae getting along?”

The cracks became more prominent. Large chunks of the ground rose into the air, fizzling into particles before fading away. Makoto grasped his shoulders, crying.

“ _Please_!” Her voice broke. She stared up into his eyes, only finding the same vacant, guilty stare. “Just one more day Ren…just let me have this _one_ day with them, _please_ …!” Ren’s expression never changed. His body shone, then scattered into a flurry of black butterflies. Makoto whipped around, desperate, aching to gather her family and get away from here to their home. To happiness.

But neither were there anymore.

“Sis! Dad!” Makoto cried out, more and more of the floor rising into the sky. In the distance, she made out a man in a police uniform. She couldn’t mistake those reddish-brown eyes anywhere. Makoto broke into a sprint, arms and legs flying over the remains of the ground. She could see her father reach out to her. She reached her own hand out.

“Dad! Please don’t go, don’t leave us!” Makoto pleaded.

“Your Dad has to go help people in need,” he smiled. A horn and lights appeared in the distance. Makoto clawed for his hand, tears and snot dribbling down her face. But no matter how much she tried to reach him, he only slipped away further and further.

“I’ll always be proud of you,” he closed his eyes. Serenity graced his face as the truck ran over him, and then disappeared into the distance. He was gone before her very eyes. A flash of light filled her vision as

Makoto let out a single, guttural scream.

* * *

For a moment, there was only silence. And then, the rustle of chains. She opened her eyes. Velvet cushioned walls surrounded her. Broken, rusted chains hung overhead. She didn’t even need to fully extend her arms before her hands met the surroundings. There was room further back, but only enough to take a few steps in either direction, at most.

The scene was familiar to her.

“The Velvet Room?”

Makoto tried to take a step forward, but her leg jerked. A single, lone chain was snaked around her ankle, and connected to the wall behind her. Instead of her coat, sweater, and skirt, she was dressed in prisoner garbs. She brought her hands to the bars of the cell. A bright light flashed before her eyes and faded within seconds.

She was greeted with the sight of Sae and Ren, sitting across from each other at a metallic table. The room was an unbearable, muted gray. Sae’s back was to her, but she could see Ren clearly. He was clutching the side of his head, eyes glazed over. A breath hitched in her throat when she noticed the bruises and cuts that adorned his exposed skin, and the many worse ones that she knew laid obscured by his uniform.

This was his interrogation – _her plan_ , at work.

Sae tapped her purple fingernails against the cool steel table. Her shoulders rose, then fell with a breath.

“You commit all these crimes, and expect me to believe some ridiculous fairytale you concocted on the spot?”

“It’s not…a…”

Sae’s hand crashed down onto the table. It, Ren, and Makoto, all shook from the impact.

“I’ve heard _enough_. Clearly, you’ve no interest in telling me the truth. I suppose there’s only one thing left to you now. What a disappointing end to the hero of justice…right, _Makoto_?”

“Sis?!” Makoto cried.

Sae turned her head towards Makoto.

Her eyes were a furious, hateful gold.

“No…” Makoto backed away from the cell door, trembling. “W-we beat your Shadow, you ch-changed your own heart…”

Sae merely laughed, one hand clutching her stomach, and the other on her forehead. The sound was harsh, grating, as though millions of fingernails being dragged down a blackboard at once. When the laughter stopped, Sae only sneered at Makoto’s cell.

“Did you genuinely believe a few, pathetic words could convince me to abandon my ambitions—to _allow myself to lose_? To think my own sister was this moronic,” Sae spat, sauntering up to the cell. Her heels cracked the floor with each step. She pressed her face against the bars, giving Makoto an unnaturally wide grin.

“You should have stayed out of this, Makoto. I tried to warn you; children like you don’t understand what we adults have to do for your sake.” Sae smile faded, morphing into a piercing glare. “And now look what you’ve done to me. You’ve put me in an impossible position, where my own _sister_ is a _fucking_ Phantom Thief.”

“Si—”

“ _Silence_!” Sae’s hand slammed against the bars, shaking the entire cell. Makoto stumbled to the ground. “This is _my_ world, Makoto. Everything here,” Sae said, gesturing around, “I’m forced to rig to my advantage just to be able to take care of _you_.”

Sae pulled away from the door, walking back to the desk. For his part, Ren didn’t seem to hear the exchange or see Makoto at all. Sae slammed another hand on the table, getting his attention.

“T-the phone…” Ren began, gesturing to the device in question. His phone sat mere centimeters from where Sae’s hand lay on the table. “S-show it…to the tr-traitor…t-to Akechi…” Sae grabbed the phone in her left hand, looking between it and Ren.

She crushed it.

The broken phone crumbled to the floor, a few, dying sparks, flying in the air. Makoto stared slack-jawed. Ren sat, shocked. Sae shook her head.

“Do you honestly think I’d let Goro Akechi, a _high schooler_ , take my credit? My promotion?” she asked, affixing Ren with a glare. Makoto watched as a chill ran through him. “ _I’m_ going to be the one to see this case through to the end.” Sae snapped her fingers.

A detective entered through the door, holding a rope. Makoto’s faced paled; one by one, the other Phantom Thieves were dragged through the door. Blindfolded, gagged, handcuffed, and torsos tied to the rope.

“But th-they…escaped…”

“Amamiya, were you all so full of yourselves to truly expect teenagers to get the better of us?” She walked up to Ren. There was a sharp crack; Ren’s head jerked to the side, a stinging, red handprint on his cheek. “This is a country built on laws. Ones you and you little group have disturbed; ones I will set right. Put them against the wall.”

The detective lined the captive Thieves to the wall. Ren attempted to rise from his chair, but his legs quivered, and he fell back into it with a thud. Sae could only smile, marching in front of the bound Thieves one by one. “Such a shame it had to come to this, Makoto,” Sae announced, stopping in front of Futaba. The younger girl shuddered as Sae brought her fingers to her chin.

“Sis, stop!”

“If you weren’t such a disappointment, maybe I wouldn’t have to clean up your mess,” Sae announced, giving Makoto one, final glare. Black static enveloped her form. Where there was once a business suit, rusted, bloodied armor covered her limbs. Her silver hair, once pristine and flowing, flayed out in all directions. Her left arm was charred, fingers more like claws. On her right, a long, rusted sword. Even Sae’s head transfigured; gone was the familiar face of her sister. Only a rusted helmet with piercing, golden eyes was visible.

Makoto trembled; it was Leviathan. This was her sister’s true nature. The white-hot envy Makoto thought she placated. The impulses she fervently hoped Sae could control. Sae – Leviathan, drove her blade through Futaba’s stomach. A sickening squelch, and Futaba’s gagged cry, filled the air. And then, she was gone. Leviathan stepped aside to let her splash into a pool of her own blood. Dead.

Makoto could only sit back and shake her head. Her throat was too raw to cry out. Next was Ryuji. Then Morgana. Then Yusuke. The squelch, the whimper, the splash.

Dead, dead, dead.

She came up to Haru, raising her sword to the girl’s chest. “You could have avoided this, Makoto,” Leviathan intoned, slowly piercing Haru’s frame. Blood pooled on her jacket. Haru began choking, flailing in her bonds. Leviathan made no effort to hide the glee in her voice.

“You should have just listened to me and kept to your studies. I spent years planning out your future to the letter, but you just had to go against me. Now, you’ve cost them their lives.” Leviathan grabbed Haru’s head and thrust the blade all the way through her. Blood poured from the wound onto the floor.

“Why…” Makoto’s voice was small, weak. She clutched her stomach, tears flowing down her cheeks. Leviathan let Haru drop to the floor and proceeded to stab through Ann. Makoto reached a shaky hand out to grasp the cell’s bars.

“You probably thought you were so clever. But you gambled on what you hoped I could be, and you were wrong. Don’t you get it, Makoto? This is what happens when you lose,” Leviathan twisted the sword in Ann’s gut. Her yelps rang out louder. Makoto brought another, shaky hand to the cell bars.

Ann collapsed to the ground with the rest of the dead. Leviathan, covered in the blood of the Thieves, turned her attention towards Ren. He was still seated in the chair, but his head was down. Leviathan marched towards the boy, hoisting his head up. Gone was the defiant spark of rebellion; his eyes were vacant. Hopeless. Resigned.

“M-my friends…”

“Are dead, Amamiya. You failed them. _She_ failed you.”

Makoto’s grasp tightened on the cell bars. She knew it wasn’t real; it was just a dream. They had succeeded, Sae was on their side, they beat Shido together. It was just a sick, terrible dream. And yet, the mere concept of it all stung at her core. How daring the plan was; how foolish she was to blindly trust her sister’s ability to be better, when all Sae had shown over the last few years was her capacity to be _worse_.

Leviathan drew her blade closer to Ren’s throat.

“Why Sis?”

Leviathan’s gaze met Makoto’s. The tears started again.

“ _Why_ are you _doing_ this? You weren’t like this when we were kids. Why did you turn out like this?!” Makoto yelled, waiting for Leviathan’s – Sae’s, answer. Leviathan chuckled lightly. And then it grew. It rose to laughter, to a mad, symphony of callous joy.

“You’ve already seen it, Makoto.” Leviathan turned her attention back to Ren, gripping his head tighter. “I had to put myself through hell. I had to be sister, parent, provider – all of it. All because you’re so _fucking_ _useless_.” Leviathan swiped. Blood sputtered from Ren’s neck. He clutched at the wound, gurgling blood from his mouth as his body began to seize. Makoto could only stare as Ren fell to the ground, liters of blood flying through the air from her beloved’s neck. He looked in her direction, and her heart ached.

“M-m-m-m-makoto, I-I…s-s-sorry…I…”

Ren let out one, final painful gasp, before falling silent. Dead.

Makoto’s hands fell from the bars. Her face was blank.

“Useless…”

Anger welled up inside of her. The bodies of her friends laid on the floor, as though ghosts against a cloudy sky. Useless.

Useless.

_Useless._

Makoto took a haggard breath and snarled. She leapt at the cell’s bars, the chain attached to her leg digging into her ankle. But she didn’t give care. She shook the bars in a fury, desperate to be let out. Desperate to be at Leviathan’s throat.

She searched her soul for any trace of the power she held as Queen. For Agnes, Anat, Johanna; any of them would do. She beckoned to her other self, her _better_ self, like that fateful night in Kaneshiro’s Palace.

But Johanna was gone. Queen was gone.

The confidence. The assuredness. The hope. All of it disappeared with the Metaverse, leaving behind nothing more than the shell of the sycophant she used to be. 

Makoto’s rage grew; Leviathan tilted her head.

“I already told you Makoto, it’s useless, _you’re_ —”

“DO NOT CALL ME USELESS!” Makoto tore off the bars of the cell. The chain snapped as she ran forward, lunging her fist into Leviathan’s chest. The beast howled, propelled backwards. Makoto charged again. Leviathan raised her sword; Makoto’s fury only rose.

“Even me, Sis!? You would have let me _die_ if it meant _you_ could be successful!?” Makoto screamed, crashing her fist into the blade. The sword shattered into pieces. She brought her other fist into Leviathan’s face, knocking her to the ground.

She jumped onto Leviathan’s body, bringing her knees crashing into the beast’s stomach. She raised a shaky fist over her head, angled for Leviathan’s face.

“Did you ever think about what I went through for you? How many times my friends and I put our lives on the line for the justice our father died for? The justice you swore to achieve!” Makoto cried. The tears landed on Leviathan’s unmoving face. She narrowed her eyes. “Why won’t you say something!?”

Leviathan met her eyes.

“Answer me!”

“Why? You’re just a failure,” Leviathan droned. She tilted her head towards the corpses of the Thieves. “You failed them. You failed Amamiya. You failed me.” Leviathan chuckled, eyes never leaving Makoto. “You even failed Dad, too.”

Makoto screamed and brought her fist down into Leviathan’s helmet. It shattered, pieces scattering around the floor. Makoto’s eyes widened at the face inside. She saw herself, golden-eyed, smiling.

“I…”

 _**"I only hurt the people I let in. Just like I did back then.** _ _**"** _

Makoto clutched her head, falling to the ground beside Leviathan. Images flashed in front of her.

Mementos.

Joker flying backwards, crumbling in the dirt.

Noir, slumped against the wall.

White gloved hands around Panther’s neck.

Panther pinned to the ground between two spiked knees.

Queen’s arms, outstretched, hands clasped together and wrapped in a Freidyne spell. 

_"THIS IS FOR EVERYTHING YOU'VE PUT ME THROUGH!"_

Queen's fists barreling down.

Makoto woke just before the impact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went back and forth on uploading both parts as just one, big chapter, but the pacing felt pretty funky, and didn't feel right (similar to what happened with Sae's parts). So I split it into two and went over them separately. Fell a bit behind schedule on editing, but I'm anticipating Part II will be up either later today or tomorrow!
> 
> also, jack'em boppers are absolutely the persona-verse equivalent to sock'em boppers.


	8. The Daze of Sisters: Makoto II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With this we return to regularly scheduled updates! Chapter 9 coming on July 20th!

**THURSDAY, JULY 27 TH, 2017**

**Late Evening / Makoto’s Bedroom**

**Days Until Counseling Appointment: 2**

Makoto sprang out of the bed in a tangle of limbs and sheets. There was some sort of crash; a sudden pain in her leg, and something wet dripped down her shin. Yet, it felt a million miles away. All she could process was the blood of her friends on the interrogation room floor, and Leviathan’s face and Ann’s neck in her hands and

Her breath was coming a mile a minute. Her head was spinning, the room was spinning, everything was _spinning,_ and it wouldn’t _stop_ and she couldn’t _breathe_ and she couldn’t walk and she was drenched in sweat and

“Makoto!” Someone was at her side, but she was still spinning, she couldn’t breathe. Everything was a blur and her very atoms felt like they were _burning_ , almost like she was trying to swim but the ocean was swallowing her deeper, deeper, _always_ deeper, never letting her go

A face in front of hers. Unkempt black hair and eyes the color of iron – Ren.

“Makoto,” he whispered. He held out his hand, palm up, to her. Her breath was still rapid; lungs straining to right themselves. But she tried to focus on him. She lifted a shaky hand and placed it in his own. She wanted to speak, but all she could muster were rapid, shallow breaths. Ren rubbed the back of her sweat drenched hand with his thumb.

“This may be hard, but I want you to breathe with me, okay?”

She nodded.

Ren kept his eyes on her as he took a slow, deep breath in from his nose. He exhaled through his mouth. He started again; she tried to join him. For every breath of his, she had taken eight. Her hand trembled even more in his own and she still felt trapped in that ocean and unable to move and

Then she felt his thumb gently rub against her hand.

She saw his eyes on her. She saw that he was here, with her. He was _safe_. Her breathing slowed; her chest slowly rising and falling in time with his. The rest of the world came back to her then. The darkness of the bedroom, the tangle of Buchimaru sheets on the floor, the dresser fallen over at her side. Her heartbeat fell back into a familiar rhythm as she interlocked her fingers with his.

She tried to adjust herself to lean closer to him and winced. The pain of her leg came back to her. She looked down; trickles of blood cascaded down her shin to her ankle. Ren caught her eyes and rose to his feet; his hand slipped from hers.

“We need to get that bandaged up. I’ll get the first aid kit.” His voice was gentle. Makoto nodded. “Keep breathing like we were, okay?” As he left, she tried to keep the rhythm they established.

Breath in. Five seconds. Breath out. Five seconds. She repeated this, again and again. Each breath bringing more awareness of herself, of her surroundings. By the time Ren returned, nearly tripping through the door, she was even more acutely aware of the throbbing pain emanating from her leg.

Ren seated himself to her side, lifting the injured limb and applying the sterilization. A hiss escaped her lips from the pain. As he started to wrap a bandage around it, her tired eyes took in his form. The messy crop of hair she loved to twist her fingers in. The small smile that would greet her when she rolled over next to him in the mornings. The eyes…

_“...she stared up into his eyes, only finding the same vacant, guilty stare.”_

Makoto swallowed. And she thought.

_Ren did what was right._

**_Ren made me choose between supporting him and having my family back._ **

_Maruki would have subjugated the world if everyone else and I didn’t give up that lie._

**_But I would have had my family with me._ **

_I would have been brainwashed._

**_I would have been happy._ **

_I can find my own happiness with my friends. With Ren._

**_How can I be happy when he took my family away from me again?_ **

“Makoto?”

She blinked. Ren was staring at her. The drowning feeling was gone at this point, waves of exhaustion rippling their way through her. She mustered a tiny “yes?”

“I’m here for you, I’m _here_.”

“I know.”

He scooted closer to her, resting a hand on one of her own. Where her skin was clammy and cold, his was warm and dry. His hand tensed for a moment.

“That…that wasn’t an ordinary dream, was it?”

“…No.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

In getting to know and to love Ren Amamiya, Makoto came to understand his one, fatal flaw: an uncompromising willingness to always put others before himself. She saw it manifest in the numerous commitments he held to his confidants. In the way he took request after request in Mementos, running at the first chance to help someone.

How, in the week after the interrogation, he pushed through broken ribs and mounds of bruises to plaster on smiles for their friends and assure them that the plan ( _her plan_ ) had been flawless, and he was fine.

How, in Maruki’s reality, he delayed approaching her until the last second to give her as much time with her family as he could. How, when they spoke in her room afterwards, he freely invited her anger for what he’d done. How they both swore that moment forward to always tell each other the truth of their feelings, no matter how ugly or shameful or guilt-ridden it may be.

In this moment, staring into his serene, all-too-giving eyes, she remembered their promise.

And broke it.

“It was a nightmare about the interrogation. That the plan didn’t work. That you…” she trailed off, vision blurring with tears. It felt as though a rock sank into her stomach. Ren pulled her into an embrace, her head finding its usual spot in the space between his shoulder and neck.

“Makoto, it _worked_. I’m still here. You didn’t fail us; you didn’t fail me.” Her grip on him tightened.

As they held each other, bathed in the waxing rays of starlight, she didn’t have the heart to tell him that she had.

* * *

**FRIDAY, JULY 28 TH, 2017**

**Afternoon / Makoto’s Apartment**

**Days Until Counseling Appointment: 1**

She hadn’t gotten much sleep the rest of the night. During breakfast, Ren asked if she wanted to reschedule the call, claiming that everyone else would understand. The part of her that pictured them, still bodies floating in pools of blood, wanted to cancel. But she needed to know the truth.

Their friends’ screens popped up, one by one, as the Discord voice call popped to life. They were originally planning on a video call, but Sumire’s phone didn’t have a selfie camera, and Yusuke apparently sold his webcam for extra paint. Ren leaned into the mic; “Is everyone here?”

“Hello, Ren-senpai!”

“Hey, ya big bastard!”

“Honestly, can you _be_ any more vulgar?”

“Wanna repeat that, cat?!”

“I agree with, Morgana. As I’ve mentioned before Ryuji, you have no taste for aesthetics.”

“I appreciate your vulgarity, Ryuji-kun.”

“Ha, see? Haru’s on my side!”

“She still called you ‘vulgar’ though…”

“Oh shuddup, Ann!”

“Monaaaaa! Don’t lick your butt near my keyboard!”

“Dude, gross! And you’re calling _me_ vulgar?!”

“Th-that’s different, you dumb ape!”

“Who you callin’ an ape, furball?!”

“That’s enough, everyone,” Makoto ordered. All fell silent, although, she could almost feel Ryuji and Morgana glaring at one another through the screen. Ren, amused, shook his head beside her.

“Now that we’ve gotten that out of our systems,” Makoto began, soft snickers coming from the group, “I’d like to thank all of you for doing this on such short notice. I know you all must be rather busy.”

“Hey, don’t mention it,” Ann replied. “I know you probably have…questions, about everything...” Makoto glanced down at her hands as Ann trailed off. Ren placed one of his on hers, pressing a kiss to her head. She took a deep breath in, and exhaled.

“Yes. It would probably be best if we started from the beginning, if all of you are okay with it.”

The rest of the group gave varying assents.

“Um…”

“What is it, Sumire?” Makoto asked.

“I am to understand this discussion is related to an event prior to my joining, yes? Is it…okay, for me to be a participant to this? I do not wish to make this uncomfortable for the group, or you, Makoto-senpai.”

Sumire’s hesitance was something she was familiar with. She, too, had felt the same upon joining the Phantom Thieves and hearing Ann and Ryuji discuss their experiences with Kamoshida. That feeling of proximity to friends, but distance from their experiences. A state of being in a group, and unsure if you truly belong.

She thought about Futaba’s recollection of her current experiences in therapy, of Ren’s discussion with Sae on how he, Ann, and Ryuji were changing Shujin for the better.

Reflexively, Makoto went through the different masks she wore; each was a way to survive, to adapt, to keep her moving forward before she found Queen. And now, after Queen. She chose “Makoto: The Comforter.”

“Sumire, you are a member of our group, are you not? It would be a disservice to us, and to me, to exclude you from this, especially when you and I have the same amount of information on the matter.”

“…Yes, I understand! Thank you, Makoto-senpai.” Makoto gave a weak smile upon hearing the cheer in the girl’s voice.

“It seems we’re all in agreement,” Ren announced, leaning towards the mic. “We’ll start on your call, Makoto.” He made a point not to look at her.

“But if you’re uncomfortable at any point,” Ann said, her voice ringing through the laptop speakers, “tell us, alright?”

“I will, Ann. I promise.” The lie felt like battery acid on her tongue. “But I need you all to promise me this,” Makoto declared, looking between the laptop and Ren. She sat back in her seat, a knot forming in her stomach.

“I need to know the whole story. Leave nothing out.”

They didn’t.

* * *

**NOVEMBER 17TH, 2016**

**Early Afternoon / Mementos: Path of Adeyeshach, Area 12**

**Days Until Investigation Begins: 3**

Joker flipped backwards as the Mithras exploded into black dust. He landed in a crouch near Queen, Noir, and Panther. Fox, Skull, Mona, and Oracle stood further back, Oracle readying a second wave of buffs. It had been a few hours since they arrived, and everyone was near the brink of exhaustion. They entered Mementos to do some last-minute training before their final run on Niijima's Palace, and to steel their resolve for the plan against Akechi.

Although no one dared speak of it to Joker's face, he knew they were nervous. Though he tried to hide it, he felt the same. Their plan against Akechi was sound, but success hinged on whether Sae Niijima would be willing to believe Joker's story during his interrogation. Although he knew she could be willing to listen, he wasn’t sure if she _would_. Joker rose to his feet, turning to do a Baton Pass with Noir. He glanced at Queen, seeing a faint smile on her lips.

Queen had hope that her sister could see better, _be_ better, if given a chance. And if she believed, he would too. A shout from Oracle interrupted his thoughts.

"Joker, behind you!" He turned to see a Black Ooze appear from nowhere, an ailment spell already launched in his direction. Joker cursed; he had Decarbia equipped, there wasn't time to switch to a resistant Persona…!

In an instant, he found himself pushed back towards Noir and Panther. He fell on his back, glancing up. Queen stood where he was just a moment ago, staring at the enemies, unmoving.

"Astarte, Mapsiodyne!" Noir's Persona billowed behind her, dispatching the final enemies with a wave of psychic energy. Joker hopped to his feet, running for Queen.

"Queen, are you oka--" a sharp kick to his solar plexus sent him rocketing backwards. He felt himself collapse against something small and oddly furry--Mona.

Joker clutched his stomach, vision blurring. Blood seeped from the wound. Queen’s Persona, Anat, pulled back its leg. Directly before it, Queen stood, both fists raised. The Phantom Thieves let out a collective gulp as she looked at them with pink tinted eyes, and a fury that shook them to their cores. Oracle was the first to speak.

"Queen's been brainwashed! She isn't in her right mind!"

Joker struggled to rise to his feet, only to stumble to the ground atop Mona again. He coughed up blood. Fox and Skull grabbed both his arms, placing them around their shoulders.

"Panther, Noir," Oracle called, rushing over to collect Mona. "Joker and Mona are down, you have to get her a Relax Gel or a healing spell." Noir nodded.

"I have just the thing! Astarte, Amrita--"

"Anat. Flash Bomb." A sonic boom crashed into Noir's midsection, propelling her into the wall with a thud. She fell to the ground, eyes dazed and drool dripping down her chin.

"Dammit, she's confused!" Skull spat. "Fox, hold onto him. I'm gonna get Noir and back-up Panther."

"Oracle, how can Queen use her Persona's offensive skills? I thought we couldn't when brainwashed." Fox called, dragging Joker close to Oracle. The girl had moved Mona to her side, laying him down next to her. Oracle sent another wave of buffs from her console, focusing them on Panther and Skull.

"I don't know! Something with cognition, I guess? The Brainwash status normally put you under the enemies’ control. At worst you’d either heal them up or flail around like a mosquito. But…”

“But?”

“If the target was somehow under extreme levels of stress, effects like Rage or Brainwash could have the potential to put them in a dissociative-like state. Maybe it could even break down inhibitions that prevent them from acting on certain impulses. But what could be happening with Queen to cause that level of—oh" Oracle stopped, eyes widening. Fox looked at her, before coming to the realization himself.

"Niijima's Palace…" Fox said, frowning.

“And Akechi’s trap, Joker’s interrogation…,” Oracle froze. “She even wrote the calling card for Niijima too, right?”

Fox gave a solemn nod.

Oracle took a deep breath. "Inari. If Queen kills us here, it’s been my unfortunate privilege to fight beside you." Oracle returned to her console, applying buffs double time. "Skull, get them out there! Go go go!"

Skull began to run towards Noir. Queen saw his movement, raising her revolver towards his head. Her finger was about to pull the trigger when a whip wrapped itself around her wrist, pulling the gun towards the ground. The shot rang out in the dirt.

"Queen, you need to pull it together!" Panther cried, struggling to hold the whip in place. Although Skull and Fox were their physical specialists, there was no denying Queen was their strongest fighter after Joker.

"We're your friends, remember?! You might be stronger than us, but we aren't that useless--"

In that moment, Panther's eyes met Queen's. Somehow, the fury in them only seemed to grow.

"Useless?" Queen muttered. She grabbed the whip with her free hand. Her mask blazed off her face, Anat towering behind her. Panther attempted to call to Hecate, but a brilliant stream of blue lights exploded all around her and Queen. She closed her eyes for only a second before she felt her whip tugged forward and up. Panther was sent flying into the ceiling. She struggled to loosen herself from the rock, spotting Queen below her. Queen muttered something, and Anat raised its hands. A sonic boom exploded in the rock around Panther. She fell to the ground with a loud thud.

"Useless?" The sound of metal boots clacked towards her. Panther knelt up; vision still dazed. A hand wrapped around her neck, easily lifting her into the air. It squeezed, restricting her airways.

"Q-queen… M-m-makoto—" Panther began, struggling for air. She glanced down at Queen; her eyes widened. Queen glared at her with an intensity that sent panic screaming in every cell of her body.

This was not anger.

It was not rage.

It was _hatred_. The same she held for Kamoshida. A venomous, and unyielding hatred.

"Do _not_ call me _useless_ ," Queen growled, eyes somehow pinker and even more furious. Fox and Skull tried to run towards them. Queen shot her free hand back; a wave of blue explosions rocked the ground, knocking Skull and Fox back.

Her eyes stayed glued to Panther as she slammed the girl into the dirt. Panther attempted to lift her arms, but Queen pinned them to the side with her knees; she was trapped. Queen raised her fists to the sky. The air seemed to tremble around her as a furious, wild blue light encircled them. Panther's eyes widened, tearful. She was channeling a Freidyne spell into her fists. After the damage she just took, Panther’s endurance was shot: if Queen hit her with that, she would die.

In the distance, over the craters from Queen’s Mafreidyne, Joker stirred, rising to his feet. Oracle and Skull hurried to his side, placing a hand on his shoulders.

“Dude, take it easy!”

“Your wounds aren’t healed yet!”

“Queen…where…?”

“Queen, please, don’t do this!”

His eyes snapped up to the two young women beyond the craters in the dirt. Blue and white energy crackled in Queen’s raised hands. Panther was pinned beneath her, terrified.

“Oracle, Skull, you need to let me out there.”

“ _Dammit_ Joker, I already said you’re in no shape—”

“If we don’t act _now_ , Panther will die!” Both Thieves tensed. Oracle and Skull exchanged a look. Skull sighed.

“Okay, but don’t do anything crazy, man. What do you need?”

“Oracle, super charge me. Skull, I need you to use that Salvation S item from the shopping channel on me.” Oracle looked at him, concern on her face.

“Joker…? What are you planning to do?”

“She’s too far out of range for us to use any items on her. I don’t have a status clearing Persona, and Noir is…” all three looked behind them. Fox had collected Noir and laid her next to Mona. Her eyes were still dazed over.

“I just need a clean shot.” Joker mumbled, limping forward.

“You’re going to OHKO her?!” Oracle called after him. She looked to Skull, his eyes wide. The two Thieves shared a stunned, second of silence, before nodding. Oracle called up Prometheus’ console. Skull lifted the Salvation S, aiming for Joker’s back.

He barked a single “now!”

Skull threw the Salvation S. It shattered against Joker, infusing him with strength.

“Super move, ultra-charge!”

Joker’s mind and body focused. Punching the wound on his chest, Joker charged forward, sprinting towards Queen. Panther’s pleas became louder.

“Queen, _please_!”

Queen’s voice boomed, hatred a venom that pulsated through cognition itself. “THIS…IS FOR EVERYTHING YOU’VE PUT ME THROUGH!" Queen's fists flew down. Panther braced herself.

Joker felt his mask radiate with the Persona he required. It flared off his face as he yelled at the top of his lungs.

"KOHRYU, PSYCHO FORCE!"

A stream of immense psychic energy rocketed into Queen, launching her in the air. She landed on the ground face first, three meters back, unconscious. Panther raised herself on her elbows. Joker stood before her, panting. Skull ran for Panther, helping her to her feet. Fox and Oracle looked on from the distance. All of them stared at Joker, jaws dropped.

"Holy _shit_ …" Skull began. Joker bolted towards Queen, skidding to a stop beside her.

“Did he just…” Panther muttered weakly. She coughed into her hand: smatters of blood gripped her pink gloves.

Fox gave Oracle a grim glance. “To think he has a Persona of that strength…”

Oracle frowned, staring after her surrogate brother. “He must have fused it for taking on Akechi...”

Joker lifted her fallen body into his arms. A large splatter of blood trailed from her forehead and mouth. Her eyes were closed.

"Titania, Samarecarm!" Joker’s mask erupted from his face. The Persona hovered over Queen, green and blue lights dancing in a flurry around her body. The blood on her face dissipated. Queen grunted, slowly blinking her eyes. She gasped as Joker pulled her into a tight embrace, his sobs ringing in her ears.

"Joker…what is—"

"Makoto, thank _god_. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, _I'm sorry_." Queen awkwardly wrapped her arms around him.

"Joker, codenames!" she chided. She pulled him in closer until she felt something wet press against her abdomen. She pulled back and gasped at her now-bloodied thief outfit. Her eyes darted to Joker's, seeing the seeping wound on his chest.

"You’re hurt!" Queen raised her hand to call Anat, but Joker covered it with his own.

"I'll handle it. You just rest. _Please_." She looked into his eyes. They were puffy, red, still fresh with tears. Queen glanced downwards, before nodding. She helped him to his feet and surveyed the area around them. She saw Noir and Mona laid on the ground behind Oracle. Skull had Panther's arm draped around his shoulder as the two limped away. Fox was standing in the distance, focused for any potential Shadows.

"What…what happened?" Queen asked.

Joker turned towards her, debating on how he should explain. Suddenly, Queen vomited onto the ground, her stomach emptying before his eyes. Joker was right at her side, holding her steady as she gasped.

“Makoto!”

“Codenames…” she muttered, clutching her stomach. Joker saw her eyes turn to him, then to the group. Titania was still hovering behind him, raining down a healing spell on his wound. Queen pushed herself up onto her feet, wiping her mouth with her arm. Joker stood back as she addressed the group.

“We should get going now. It’s clear that we’re exhausted, and it would be detrimental to push ourselves any further.”

They all gave her a look, uncertainty clear on their faces. Joker placed his hand on her shoulder.

"As Queen said, we're retreating for now," Joker announced. "We’ve done all the training we can. Focus on getting rest, so that we’re ready for the mission ahead." He reached out for Queen’s hand. She looked between him and the rest of the Thieves. She took Joker's hand, regrouping with the others and returning to reality.

* * *

**FRIDAY, JULY 28 TH, 2017**

**Afternoon / Makoto’s Apartment**

**Days Until Counseling Appointment: 1**

She cast a glance at Ren; he couldn’t meet her eyes. She gave a soft squeeze to his hand. The remaining Thieves were all silent on the line, presumably waiting for her to say something. Anything.

“I—”

“It’s not your fault, Makoto,” Ann declared.

“Ann, I wasn’t—"

“You _were_ about to apologize, weren’t you?”

Makoto bit her lip. “…Yes.”

“Makoto, you were brainwashed, in the middle of the one of the most stressful things we ever did. You can’t blame yourself for that.”

_But I hurt you._

“I quite agree, Mako-chan,” Haru’s voice called. “We could not have known what to expect given the circumstances. I’m only sorry we’ve kept this from you for so long…”

_But I hurt you!_

“It’s fine,” Makoto sighed. “It’s in the past now, right?”

“Makoto…” Futaba muttered.

“In any case,” Makoto said, quickly trying to steer the conversation from her, “I believe we’ve accomplished the goal of this meeting. Thank you, everyone.”

There were a few seconds of silence as the Thieves closed out of the call, one by one. She felt Ren squeeze her hand. Hoping to deflect him from starting a conversation about the call, she turned toward him.

“Ren—”

“Ryuji.”

“Huh?”

Ren pointed to the laptop screen. Ryuji’s call window sat open. Makoto stared at it, puzzled.

“Did you need something, Ryuji?”

“Uh…yeah. I was, uh, hoping I could talk to ya for a bit, Makoto.”

Makoto turned her head to look at Ren, only to find him walking out of the room. He waved a hand to her; “I’m gonna get started on dinner, take your time.”

“Ren…”

“Just leave ‘im be, Makoto. You know how he gets when he’s trying to be strong for us.”

She turned back to the computer screen, confused. “What do you mean, Ryuji?”

Ryuji sighed. “Man, you know I’m not great at this touchy-feely talk.”

Makoto crossed her arms, smirking. “Humor me.”

“Fine, whatever. But can we please turn on the webcams? It’s drivin’ me effin' _nuts_ talking to a blank screen.”

“Alright.”

“W-wait, before we do,” Ryuji interrupted, hesitation evident in his voice. “You should know I might look a little… _different_...”

“Ryuji?”

He sighed again. “You’ll see what I’m talkin’ about.”

Makoto flipped on her webcam. She saw a flicker on Ryuji’s end, and saw the image come to life. She gasped.

“Ryuji, your _hair_!”

His hair, once a brilliant dyed blonde, was now nearly completely black. The only hint of blonde rested on the tips of his hair. Ryuji looked away from the screen, frowning. She noticed him rock his leg beneath his desk.

“Oh, come on, Ryuji. It looks good on you!”  
  
“Can we _please_ just move on from my damn hair?” Ryuji said, his voice booming through the speakers. Ren popped his head around the corner. Makoto waved him away, chuckling.

“Never thought I’d say it but thank god for Yusuke. Ann would’ve had an effin’ fit about this…” Ryuji shook his head, turning back to Makoto. “But anyway, how ya holdin’ up, Miss Prez?”

“Ryuji, I believe I’ve told you I’m not part of Shujin’s student council anymore.”

“Still gonna be ‘Miss Prez’ to me, Miss Prez,” Ryuji smiled.

Makoto rolled her eyes. “You wanted to talk?”

Ryuji’s smile faded. “Yeah. That was a lot of shit we just dropped on you. You sure you alright?”

“Ryuji, I’m fine. Like I said, it’s all in the past.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Excuse me?”

“Listen man, I know what it’s like to be that pissed,” Ryuji said, his expression darkening. “You don’t feel shit that intense and just say ‘it’s in the past’.”

Makoto glanced down and to her left. Ryuji sighed.

“I don’t wanna be all up in your business; you decide how much of that you wanna share. But you can talk to us, ya know? You’re our friend, Makoto. You don’t have to do it all alone.”

Makoto sighed. After her father’s death, she had gotten used to handling things herself. If she didn’t, she would have to get Sae. Sae would be irritated, Makoto would get yelled at, and the cycle would continue like that until Makoto became “more self-sufficient” and “less of a leech.”

Logically, she knew it was different now. She had friends who were willing to help, friends who were willing to listen, to be there—

> _A sonic boom crashed into Noir's midsection, propelling her into the wall with a thud._
> 
> _Queen shot her free hand back; a wave of blue explosions rocked the ground, knocking Skull and Fox back._
> 
> _Queen raised her fists to the sky. The air seemed to tremble around her as a furious, wild blue light encircled them. Panther's eyes widened, tearful._
> 
> _She brought her gloved fist right into Ren’s face. A “pop” burst through the air. He stumbled backwards, falling back onto the floor._

**_For me to hurt again._ **

Makoto shook her head. “I-I know. Thank you, Ryuji. I’ll try to keep that in mind.” She paused, watching the former blonde raise an eyebrow in response. Though many assumed he and Ann were not intelligent, their emotional intelligence was easily the highest amongst their group. In her mind, Makoto quickly flicked through her masks.

“Ma—”

“How did you do it?”

“Huh?”

Reflexively, the mask she needed slipped right into place. _Makoto: The Empathetic Friend_.

“Deal with that anger…how’d you come to do it?”

Ryuji looked at her for a moment. And took the bait.

“Truth is, I don’t think I have,” Ryuji gave a hollow laugh. “Every I look at my leg, I just see that bastard Kamoshida’s effin’ smile.” Ryuji’s expression darkened.

“Just thinking about the shit he said about my mom, what he did to the track team, the volleyball team, me, Ann, _Shiho_ …!” Ryuji brought his fist down onto the desk, surprising Makoto. His nostrils were blaring. Within seconds, Ryuji seemed to realize what he had done, and quickly muttered an apology.

“He’s still on your mind,” Makoto said. Ryuji nodded.

“Never left. Everything that bastard did…how could I ever forget that? And I ain’t ever gonna forgive him, either.”

“You don’t need to.”

“Tell that to Shujin,” Ryuji chuckled, shaking his head. “But I ain’t about to let go of that anger. Kamoshida brought it outta me, but it’s still mine to use.”

“What do you mean?” Makoto asked, readjusting in her chair.

“It’s kinda like…” Ryuji began, gesturing around with his hands. He looked at them, frowned, and leaned back in his seat. “Man, I dunno how to explain it!”

“Remember what Ren always used to say? Take your time.” Makoto smiled as Ryuji laughed. While he was loud, his laughter always brought a level of levity and warmth to the Thieves.

“I guess it’s like, Kamoshida used my anger against me, right?”

“Yes. He goaded you into attacking him, and used that to target the track team.”

“Yeah, exactly! Bein’ angry like that, that’s what got me to connect with Kidd in that bastard’s Palace. Kidd, Teisai, William -- they ain’t what Kamoshida did to me, but like…my desire, or whatever, to look that snake, and all these other snakes putting people through bullshit, right in the eye and tell ‘em ‘I’m more than the shit you make me out to be.’”

“Ryuji…”

“Me bein’ pissed ain’t no one’s tool but mine. If I can use that to make change, to help people who need it, I’ll be effin’ furious as long as it takes.”

Ryuji paused for a moment, before scratching his head.

“That’s why after I get my leg back together and get back to track, I’m gonna go back to Shujin as a gym teacher someday.”

“Ryuji, that’s incredible!”

“Geez, keep it down, man!” Ryuji groaned. Makoto clasped a hand around her mouth. She heard Ren pause in the kitchen for a moment, before going back to work.

“S-sorry…”

“Don’t worry about it. But maaaan, Renren was right, you are fun to mess with,” Ryuji said, laughing. He froze upon seeing Makoto’s glare.

“Fun to _what_?”

“N-nothing Queen!” Makoto felt a pang of pain in her heart upon hearing the name. Ryuji seemed not to have noticed, as he continued on.

“But yeah, thinking about all the people like me an’ Ann at school, I don’t ever want them to experience the shit we had to go through. It ain’t just Kamoshida either. All those teachers and staff that was in on it, Kobayakawa…I’m not gonna sit back and let that shit slide. I wanna be the teacher we should’ve had, someone to protect us and help hold the entire effin’ system accountable.”

“That’s a wonderful goal to strive for.”

“Heh, I guess so,” Ryuji said, smiling. “But I’m sure it ain’t got nothing on what you’re workin’ towards, Makoto.”

“Huh?”

“Man, come on! You busted your _ass_ all year long and juggled acing all your work _and_ Phantom Thieving, there ain’t nothing that can hold you back,” Ryuji said, flashing her a thumbs up. 

"I-I suppose..."

"How's school going? Keeping that #1 spot I bet!" 

"I-" she stammered. 

“Shit! My appointment’s coming up soon, oh dammit,” Ryuji jumped out of his chair, turning back towards the computer screen. “Good talking with ya Miss Prez! I know that whatever you’re getting up to, you’ll make us all proud!”

Ryuji hung up. Makoto sat back in her seat, glancing at the Discord window.

“’You'll make us all proud, Makoto…’” she muttered, clenching her hands into fists. She rose from the chair, heading into the kitchen, finding Ren finished with dinner, and a variety of meals for her throughout the week.

The night carried on. Makoto found herself lying in bed, Ren fast asleep beside her. As she watched the clock crawl closer and closer to midnight, she could only think of the last two days.

Futaba continuing her mother’s research.

Ren striving for the political sphere.

Ryuji’s dreams, and efforts with Ann and Ren, to change Shujin for the better.

The Thieves' belief in her.

Her harm of them.

Her harm of Ren.

Makoto's thoughts drifted to the Mementos Incident, of what she said when she had Panther pinned beneath her.

_"THIS...IS FOR EVERYTHING YOU'VE PUT ME THROUGH."_

For a brief moment, she wondered who that was referring to.

She found herself afraid to answer.

* * *

Over the last several months, Makoto Niijima came to appreciate three fundamental truths to this moment in her life.

It was only in these last few days that she realized a fourth, reluctant truth:

  1. She had only been happy because she was running from herself.



Now, she was running out of places to hide.

**SATURDAY, JULY 29 TH, 2017**

**Days Until Counseling Appointment:**

**0**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So concludes "The Daze of Sisters." Originally, my plan for this was just 2 chapters: one for Sae, and one for Makoto. It was admittedly annoying at first that both needed to be broken up, but I think it came out better paced and allowing for more time to sit with where both of them are at in the lead up to their first appointment with Takemi, which is the next chapter.
> 
> "The Daze of Sisters" is a reference to their song on the OST (Days of Sisters), and also meant to focus on how lost both sisters are at this point in the narrative. It was intentional to keep them separate in these chapters after their first reunion. 
> 
> It was extremely interesting to me that Sae never had her Treasure stolen, so I wanted to approach writing her as someone who's actively trying to be a better person in the aftermath of her Palace, but still feels the pull of her worst tendencies ("give into temptation" 🎶). 
> 
> With Makoto, after finishing Royal, I thought that all of the Thieves would have a difficult time ahead of them, but given the text exchange she has with Joker during one of the January Mementos missions, it seemed like her road would be bumpier than it would be on the surface. The Mementos Incident came about after wondering how Makoto wasn't falling apart with 1) Akechi plotting to kill Joker (her bf in my playthroughs), 2) Akechi (an assassin) waltzing around her sister's Palace, 3) infiltrating her sister's Palace, and 4) her plan involving relying on Sae to believe them, after Sae had chewed her out throughout the game. It was way too ripe for potential to leave alone.
> 
> For my portrayal of Makoto here, a key part of this mirrors Sae; someone dealing with the aftermath of an experience -- in this case, the loss of Queen. Makoto is trying to reconcile who she is now without Queen *and* without being the Makoto from the beginning of the game. She's having a bit of an identity crisis, which is compacted by seeing everyone else making tangible steps towards their goals, worrying that all she can do is hurt them & let them down. She's also finding herself having varying frustrations over the past that she didn't process much at the time, but is starting to hit her now that things are not Constantly Happening.


	9. The First Appointment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was v. difficult to write and edit lol
> 
> Chapter 10 (!!!) "To Heal & To Hurt" is coming on 8/3. This will definitely be a shorter one (potentially the shortest? We'll see when it's posted!).
> 
> I hope you're all continuing to stay safe out there, and thank you as always for reading. I really appreciate all the commenters for taking time to talk about their thoughts, and I hope that you can continue to enjoy the story!

**SATURDAY, JULY 29 TH, 2017**

**Afternoon / Yongen-Jaya Streets**

If asked to describe a typical day in Yongen-Jaya, many of its residents would give similar recollections. Stories of the elderly couple near the Sakura abode; the man near the bathhouse listening to the radio; the cats poking their heads from their nooks for the enthusiastic pets of children.

And, of course, they would speak of new stories that sprouted over the last year as well. The ward of Sojiro Sakura, who quietly lived above the café. The Phantom Thieves of Hearts, whose methods and identities remained unknown. And, of course, the deluge of teenagers that came to swarm Café Leblanc like clockwork. Often, the residents would _hear_ them before they could see them, especially when the blondes were leading the pack.

In time these teens, too, became part of the heartbeat of Yongen-Jaya. But none quite as much as the chestnut-haired young woman. What began as visits to Sakura’s ward once every other week became once a week, and then, once every few days. Whether lounging around the café, roaming the streets on route to the station, or visiting the batting cages, the young couple became a staple sight along an afternoon stroll. So familiar did the residents become with that young woman, that the sight of her pacing back and forth before Leblanc, muttering beneath a profound blush, became yet another familiar part of their neighborhood.

That was why, as many passed by the Takemi Medical Clinic, none thought it out of the ordinary to find the young woman, dressed in a black jacket, white undershirt, and black jeans, at her usual pacing, if simply in a different location.

However, for Makoto, there was a world of difference.

_This will be fine._

_It’s simply talking with Sis in front of someone else._

_It’s merely giving voice to everything I’m feeling to Sis._

_We’ll get through this fine._

_I will be fine._

_This is fine._

Makoto scrunched up her nose, pressing an index finger to the point between her nose and her forehead. She had been pacing before the clinic for the last five minutes, attempting to gather herself up to walk through the door. No matter what comforts she muttered to herself, what mantras she played over in her head, there was a knot in her stomach that only wound tighter and tighter.

It did not help that she didn’t get much sleep after trying to meticulously plan out everything she wanted to say to Sae. Nor did it help that she continued to be haunted by the images of the Mementos Incident. Of Ren falling back onto the kitchen floor, her fist outstretched.

Makoto suppressed a shudder. She pulled out her cellphone: _2:54:10PM. 2:54:11PM_. If she didn’t move now, she would be late for the appointment. And worse, late in front of Sae. A memory tugged at the back of her mind; sitting in sae’s apartment before her first day on the student council, Sae glowering over her:

_“We have to survive in a world that places men’s comfort above all else. They will look for any excuse, no matter how small, how trivial, to ruin you. To make sure you don’t get the recognition, the due, you’re deserved, regardless of how much more qualified than the rest you may be. If they say be there by noon, I expect you there at 11:45. Give them no reason at all; you must be perfect. No ifs, ands, or buts. Do you understand that, Makoto?”_

With a gulp, she trekked up the stairs and into the lion’s den.

* * *

**SATURDAY, JULY 29 TH, 2017**

**Afternoon / Takemi Medical Clinic**

In many ways, the waiting room only reminded Sae of her stressors.

For one, it was almost cruelly familiar the way the fluorescent lights flickered just so slightly above her. If she closed her eyes, she could almost picture stalking through the halls of the SIU Building. Surrounded by the hushed whispers, the leers, the attempted undermining, the assigned menial tasks beneath her skill level, and the ever-dreaded comparisons to her father’s family legacy.

It, too, reminded her of Amamiya. That cloudy November night after the interrogation. The clack-clack of heels through the darkened, misty streets of Yongen-Jaya as she and Okumura rushed to Takemi’s office to sequester help. She did not know how Sakura convinced the doctor to assist without having to explain the cause of Amamiya’s injuries, but that mattered little in the moment. At the time, she also hadn’t been sure _why_ Okumura insisted on coming after Sae asked for Makoto’s assistance, but given her sister’s relations to Amamiya in hindsight…

Sae exhaled, staring down at her watch.

2:50 PM.

She crossed her legs, the heeled foot on the ground tapping against the tiled floor. This was ridiculous; Makoto was _never_ late for anything. She had seen to that when the girl was younger and incap— _less_ capable.

_“We have to survive in a world that places men’s comfort above all else. They will look for any excuse, no matter how small, how trivial, to ruin you. To make sure you don’t get the recognition, the due, you’re deserved, regardless of how much more qualified than the rest you may be. If they say be there by noon, I expect you there at 11:45. Give them no reason at all; you must be perfect. No ifs, ands, or buts. Do you understand that, Makoto?”_

Her phone buzzed. Sae looked, spotting an incoming message. Curiously, there was no Chat ID attached; it was an SMS. Given Makoto being the only other person in her contacts list, she knew who it was before opening the text:

**YH** : Saaaaaaaaaaaae.

 **YH** : I have such a MASSIVE hangover… 🤕

 **SN** : Lala-san attempted to warn you, Yasuko.

 **YH** : Don’t you mean *Baha-chan?

 **YH** : …shit

 **YH** : **Lala-queen

 **YH** : ughhhhhh

 **SN** : Perhaps you should return to bed.

 **YH** : But who else will you talk to at

 **YH** : 2:52 in the afternoon

 **YH** : ?

 **SN** : My sister, for one.

 **YH** : You’re meeting Minato today?

 **YH** : *Minako

 **YH** : UGH

 **SN** : Makoto.

 **YH** : Yes, ty.

 **SN** : Yes, I am. We’re having a discussion in a moment. I likely won’t be able to reply until after it is done.

 **YH** : Ok. And we’re still on for next Friday, right? We haven’t even gotten through the full drink menu yet!

Sae rolled her eyes, a smile on her face.

**SN** : Of course, I do not go back on my word.

 **YH** : I’ll hold you to it

 **YH** : GL talking to Miitomo!

 **SN** : …Makoto.

 **YH** : …

 **YH** : I am never drinking that much again

The door to the clinic cracked open, and Sae glanced up.

* * *

Makoto and Sae’s eyes met the moment she stepped through the door. Sae sat near the entrance to the examination room.

“S-sis! I wasn’t expecting you to be here already.” It was 2:55PM. Although Sae was never late in the traditional sense, her priorities with work meant she would often push the envelope when it came to keeping on schedule with Makoto. A weak smile worked its way onto her face. _Maybe this could go well_.

“I was _on time_ , Makoto.”

A beat passed between them. What little of a smile Makoto had, fell.

“…Right.”

Makoto made her way to a seat across the room. She took a moment to take in her sister’s appearance. It was her usual business suit – Sae had likely just finished up in the office for the day. She sat upright in her chair, legs crossed, arms crossed. She was tapping her foot on the ground, eyes scanning the room around her. If it were someone else sitting in the room with Sae, they may have taken this as her being nervous.

But Makoto watched for the signs.

The slight quiver in Sae’s lower lip.

The vein pulsing in her brow.

This wasn’t nerves; it was _irritation_.

Makoto looked away. She brought her hands to her lap and looked to the floor. Her legs rocked back and forth.

“Makoto?”

“Yes, Sis?”

“You seem to be bothered.”

Makoto’s legs paused mid-motion.

“Is something wrong, Makoto?” She looked up to face Sae.

“It’s nothing. I just…didn’t get that much sleep last night.”

“Again?” Sae narrowed her eyes.

“…Again.” Makoto averted her own.

“Just…make sure it doesn’t happen again.” She smiled, but Makoto knew the irritation was still there, bubbling beneath the surface. “We’ll get through this together. Just as we’ve always done.”

For a moment, Makoto almost felt comforted. Until Sae’s smile shifted to a frown. “And tell Amamiya I _will_ be having a word with him if he so much as thinks about keeping you up late ag—”

The door on Sae’s side swung open. The sisters swiveled their attention towards Tae Takemi in the doorway, one hand holding a clipboard, and the other resting against her hip. She wore a doctor’s coat over a blue dress etched with a spiderweb design, and a choker wrapped snug around her neck. Makoto’s gaze lingered on the choker, a heat creeping its way from her neck up to her cheeks.

If she were paying more attention to her surroundings, she may have noticed Sae similarly staring, and the beginnings of a blush forming on her face.

“Makoto,” Tae announced, focusing on the younger woman. Makoto brought her gaze up to Tae’s, her face completely reddened. Tae raised a single eyebrow. “I’ll see you and your sister now,” Tae said, glancing in Sae’s direction. “If you’ll both follow me.”

“R-r-right,” Makoto stammered, quickly rising to her feet. Sae followed. The sisters shuffled after Tae through the doorway.

* * *

Once inside, both sisters were greeted with the immediate sight of a single hospital bed rested against the wall. A black, swiveling chair sat at the computer nearby. Medical tools of all shapes and sizes were meticulously organized all around the room. Curiously, a single cactus plant sat on the desk, a faded label stuck to the planter: _“From, Guinea Pig.”_

“This is not what I pictured a therapist’s office to look like,” Sae said, impassively glancing around the room.

“What had you pictured it as?’” Tae asked, stopping in the center of the room. She turned towards Sae, the latter crossing her arms.

“I assumed a couch for people to lie on, warm colors, and likely bountiful plants to try and project a welcoming demeanor,” Sae droned. “This is barren by comparison.” The two women merely stared at each other. Makoto watched on, gaze shifting from Sae to Tae and back again.

Tae smirked. “I do have the cactus at least.”

Makoto noticed a corner of Sae’s lips turn up.

“Anyway, feel free to have a seat wherever you’d like,” Tae announced with a wave of her hand. Sae looked between the hospital bed and the computer chair.

If she were 11 again, she may have been tempted to take the computer chair and see how Tae would’ve responded. A small smile crossed her lips at the thought. She could almost imagine the eyeroll and smirk her mother would’ve given her.

Tae, noticing, chuckled. “You _can_ take the computer chair if you’re interested. I did say you may take a seat wherever.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sae mumbled, taking a seat on the far-right side of the bed. Makoto looked at Tae, who nudged her head in the direction of Sae. With a gulp, Makoto took a seat on the far-left side of the couch. Tae strolled over and sat in the computer chair.

Makoto looked around the office, taking in more of the view. On the desktop monitor, she saw wallpaper images cycle through various locales in Tokyo. The Tokyo vista from the Skytree, Meiji Shrine, the church in Kanda, the Jazz Club…

Her eyes widened slightly at the next image.

A large forest spread outward; branches of trees clasped together as though hands in prayer. A sizable pond was visible in the background, rippling beneath the kisses of stray cherry blossoms and the warm whispers of couples drifting by in gondolas.

“Inokashira Park…”

Makoto turned her head; Sae was facing the computer, eyes narrowed at the picture.

“Y-yes. It’s been quite a while.”

“It has.”

“You both seem to have history with the park,” Tae said from her seat. Her eyes moved between the sisters.

“Our dad used to bring us there when we were younger…” Makoto trailed off, pain flickering across her face. Sae placed a hand on her shoulder; Makoto flinched.

“He’d bring us there to teach us aikido,” Sae explained, glancing in Tae’s direction. “He wanted us to be able to protect ourselves.”

“It sounds like you have good memories with him.”

“Some, better than others,” Sae muttered, letting her hand fall from Makoto’s shoulder. Makoto took a breath, before turning towards Tae.

“Do you frequent the park, Dr. Takemi?”

“It’s nice to take a stroll through after a long day.” Tae placed a hand to her chin in contemplation. “Although, it can be rather eventful, with everyone succumbing to the curse and all…”

“C-curse?” Makoto asked, eyes widening. Sae scoffed beside her.

Tae chuckled. “Yes, it’s an old urban legend. When people who don’t try to address the problems between them enter the park, they have an incredibly contentious confrontation. Breakups, disownment, you name it.”

“What nonsense,” Sae replied, rolling her eyes. “You’d have to be a child to believe such a rumor.”

Tae shrugged. “I can only speak for what I’ve witnessed.”

“If you’ve had your fun telling your _rumors_ ,” Sae began, irritation crossing her features, “then I’d like you to continue on. I’m rather well-aware of your reputation, Dr. Tae Takemi.”

Sae began to count off on her fingers. “Nonchalant attitude towards others, morbid sense of humor, and a general sense of irreverence.”

“It seems you’re quite well-researched, Niijima-san,” Tae replied, a hint of amusement in her voice.

“It’s to be expected of one with my career.”

“What does that happen to be?”

“I’m a defense lawyer. I was previously a prosecutor with the Special Investigations Unit, but” Sae glanced in Makoto’s direction; the girl had her eyes trained on her. “I realized that my skillset and beliefs were of more use elsewhere.”

Tae nodded. “You found a place more suited to your values.”

Sae turned back to Tae, her features softening. “Yes, I…guess I never thought of it like that.”

“And you, Makoto? What do you do during the day?”

“M-me?”

“Yes. It’d be rather odd if both you and your sister were named ‘Makoto.’” Makoto looked down into her lap, blushing, as Tae smirked.

“Er, right! Of course,” Makoto stammered. She shook her head, taking a breath before looking back to Tae. “I’m a first-year student at Tokyo University. I’m studying criminal justice.”

“I take it law enforcement runs in the family?”

“Yes, we come from a long line of police officers,” Makoto replied, a smile tugging at her lips.

“On our father’s side, at least,” Sae interjected. “Our mother’s family had a more varied career path. And she chose to take care of the home.”

“I see. It sounds as though both of you have a great appreciation for your family’s legacies” Tae replied, looking between the two. She smiled as they both nodded—Makoto, enthusiastically, Sae, dejectedly. Tae set her clipboard in her lap. “I’d like to hear more about your family, but I want to make sure we’re able to devote the time to it that they deserve. For this appointment though…”

Tae swiveled her chair around, placing a stack of papers on the edge of the desk. Both Makoto and Sae stared with mild panic. “Unfortunately, with initial appointments like these, we do have a good deal of paperwork to go through. Not to worry: my patients often tell me this is almost painless,” Tae announced, winking at the sisters.

Makoto and Sae glanced to the paperwork, and then to Tae. Both looked incredulous.

“Please say you’re joking…” Sae replied, pinching her brow.

“As I said, it’s an unfortunate part of the first appointment. But before I have you go through this; I do need to speak with you both about confidentiality.”

Makoto raised an eyebrow. “Confidentiality?”

“Yes. Essentially, what’s said in this room, stays in this room. I will not be repeating what either of you say to anyone else. However, there are particular circumstances in which information _cannot_ be kept confidential.”

Sae sat forward, eyes narrowing to a glare. “And which ‘circumstances’ would these be?”

“If one or both of you threaten to harm yourselves, each other, or another person, I am required to report that information to the authorities, in order to ensure both your individual safety, and the safety of those around you.”

“That is _ridiculous_ ,” Sae spat, folding her hands in her lap. A vein pulsed on her forehead. “Given the developments with the disgraced prime minister-designate and reports of his collusion with the police, I’d imagine you would understand any reservations I may have about involving the authorities in _anything_ to do with my family.”

To Makoto’s surprise, Tae merely nodded. “I understand that. It can be hard to have faith in figures you’re told to rely on, who then go on to hurt you.”

Memories tugged at the corners of her mind.

> _"Just a 90? You might as well go start a career at Big Bang Burger. You'll never make anything of yourself with that pathetic mark."_
> 
> _“_ _You? The student council president? I suppose they must have lowered their standards after all these years. See to it that it doesn’t interfere with your grades.”_
> 
> _“_ _Right now, you’re useless to me. All you do is eat away at my life."_

Makoto shook her head, willing herself to focus, to calm. She turned her attention back towards Tae.

(And, although she would never know, if Makoto made a different choice – if, in this moment, she had looked to Sae instead, she may have noticed the stricken look cross her sister’s face at Tae’s words.)

“Hence, why it’s important for me to let you know that information, for the sake of justice and my ethical obligations to you. After all…” Tae reached into her pocket, pulling out a red and black pin. She rolled it between her fingers, stopping it between her ring finger and pinky. The logo of the Phantom Thieves stared back at the sisters. “Such justice is what we’re all called to protect, no?” Tae winked.

Although Sae’s eyes remained narrowed, the vein stopped pulsing in her head. She sat back on the bed, legs still crossed, but her arms now resting comfortably at her side. “Hmph. Very well, continue, then.”

“How about you, Makoto?” Tae asked, returning the pin to her pocket.

“I…agree with my sister. Those terms are acceptable.” Tae’s eyes lingered on Makoto for a moment, before jotting down another note.

“I’m glad to hear that. Before we jump into the paperwork though, I want to ask you both: what brings you to therapy _now_?”

Makoto started to open her mouth; Sae quickly interjected. “Makoto requested it, and I found it agreeable. She recently moved into her own apartment this spring, and we thought it could be helpful to have someone guide our discussion on what this adjustment has been like.” Tae scribbled down a note. “Although, I’m beginning to question just how helpful this is…”

“And you, Makoto?”

“Huh?”

“is there something you wanted to share about coming in, that your sister didn’t cover?”

Makoto merely stared at her, right hand clenching the arm of the couch. Various thoughts rushed to the forefront of her mind. If one could peer into her thought process now, they may see these thoughts arranged on a scale. On one end, the truth; the years of verbal lashings, the dread of Sae relapsing into the throes of Leviathan. On the other end, fear; concern that she’ll say the wrong thing. Worry that she’ll never have Sae part of her life again should she ever whisper the truth. The scales rose and fell, teetering in slow motion. Makoto felt Sae’s gaze begin to burrow into her.

“No, I think Sis covered everything.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” The scale bottomed out, and quickly returned to equilibrium.

Tae looked between them both, scribbling again on her clipboard. “Alright. It sounds like you both want to return to some form of normalcy for you after this big change.”

Sae nodded. Makoto forced herself to nod along.

“I see,” Tae announced, looking directly at Makoto. She didn’t know what to make of it. “What I’d like to do now is move onto the paperwork portion. For these first few, I like to speak one on one with family members to get a better sense of where they’re at individually. It can be difficult for some to be that vulnerable right away.”

Makoto suppressed a gulp. She glanced in Sae’s direction, watching her nod along. There was a certain look in her eyes. Almost as if she were at a gambling table, hedging a bet.

“To that end, I would like to speak with your sister first, Makoto.”

“It’s Sae,” Sae interjected, a dissatisfied look on her face.

“I would like to speak with _Sae_ first,” Tae corrected, smiling in Sae’s direction. Sae rolled her eyes. “That is, if you don’t mind, Makoto.”

“S-sure. Should I, uh—”

“You can head to the waiting room,” Tae answered, pointing a thumb towards the door. “I’ll be out to get you when it’s your turn.”

“O-okay.” Makoto rose from the couch. As she passed by Sae, the sisters exchanged a look. Sae began to open her mouth, but promptly shut it and looked to Tae. Makoto exited the room, walking over and slumping down into the nearest seat.

Her hands shook.

* * *

Inside, Sae watched Tae gather a few forms onto her clipboard. She flipped her hair (and Sae’s heart fluttered for the briefest moment), before facing the older Niijima once more.

“How long is this going to take?” Sae asked, crossing her arms.

“What do you mean?”

“This process. You’ve had us in this room for near 15 minutes and haven’t even gotten us started on a conversation about _solving_ her problem.”

“How would you describe the problem?”

“Excuse me?”

“How would you describe it,” Tae repeated, staring gently at Sae. “You mentioned you and Makoto coming to therapy to discuss the adjustment process of her moving out. What about that adjustment has stuck with you?”

Sae opened her mouth, to find nothing coming out. She uncomfortably shifted on the bed. She hadn’t expected to be asked how _she_ felt about where things stood with Makoto. She had expected the conversation to center _Makoto’s_ feelings, and making sure _Makoto’s_ needs were met.

Just like _she’s_ always had to do the last four years.

Just like their _father_ had always done after Makoto was born.

Sae took a breath, looking down at her lap. “I guess…I’ve felt somewhat concerned, living without her around.” Sae briefly glanced up; Tae’s eyes were sympathetic. Sae brought her gaze back down. “Ever since our father died, I’ve been the sole provider for her. I worked to get her food, clothes, the home she lived in. Although she’s not as incapable as she once was, imagining her in an apartment alone is…difficult, to picture.”

“You’re worried that she may not be able to take care of herself.”

“Yes. Makoto…isn’t one to stick up for herself. She can be reckless and allow herself to fester in her emotions before doing anything to solve the problem.” Sae shook her head. “Knowing what she’ll face from men in her line of work, how could I not be concerned for her?”

“That’s understandable. You run into your fair share of those types of men in medicine as well,” Tae began, scowling. “Those who fit in with the ‘culture’ of the system, who continue to fail upwards and only put in effort when threatened by a woman who’s more qualified than them.”

Sae eyes widened. “Yes, that’s…exactly it.”

Tae’s scowl receded, replaced with a smile. “The fields may be different, but there can always be similar messes.”

Both women laughed.

“ _And_ ,” Tae emphasized, prompting Sae to look at her, “I’m wondering how _you’re_ handling Makoto not living with you anymore. Part of what makes adjustments so hard is the ripple effects it has on every person involved.”

Sae considered this. If one could witness Sae’s thought process at this moment, they would be greeted with the whistle and the clang of a slot machine. Amid images ticking away was the coveted jackpot, a rebuttal so sharp and pointed, that the conversation would belong to Sae. She would be in control, she would dictate the flow of conversation, she would win. Just as she had to doe day in and day out in those fucking courts.

And then, for some reason, she thought of Chihaya’s fortune.

She thought of Yasuko’s warm smile in the bar.

Even stranger, she thought of words from Makoto. Ones she never recalled the girl saying, yet heard distinctly in her voice all the same: _“Think about your justice, Sis. Think about how you used to be…”_

The slots screeched to a halt.

  1. 0\. 0.



_Loss._

“I’ll admit, it’s been…challenging,” Sae began, sighing. “I’m home more frequently now, and every time I look out to the living room, the kitchen, there’s this expectation of seeing Makoto studying, cooking – just there.” Sae brought her gaze up to Tae. She saw something shift in the woman’s expression. Sympathy?

“Makoto is important to you.”

“She’s the only family I have left; of course, she’s important to me.”

“That’s a fair point. Although, I do have to ask,” Tae began, leaning closer in her seat. “There are times, when feeling overwhelmed by such large changes, that some people may feel they’re better off not being alive and having to bear that pain. Have you ever felt that way?”

“No, never.”

“Some others may feel that the pain is so much, they need to take it out physically on another person. Is this a feeling you’ve experienced?”

“No. I have never considered hurting myself or another person.”

A scene came to Sae’s mind. Waiting behind her bedroom door, 8 years old. Trying not to listen but her father’s screams so loud, so harsh, that they overwhelm all her efforts.

> _“I bust my_ ass _for this family, and you can’t even clean my home the way I tell you to!”_
> 
> _Her mother, whispering._
> 
> _“I can speak however the fuck I want in_ my _house.”_
> 
> _Her mother whispered, more forceful. More exhausted.._
> 
> _“Don’t you_ dare _say that horseshit to me, Chihiro…!”_
> 
> _Her father’s footsteps. The sharp crack of his hand striking flesh._

“…No,” Sae muttered, shaking her head, “never hurting another person. Not like—” Suddenly, she looked at Tae.

Tae looked at her, mid-scribble.

Sae chose not to finish the sentence.

To Sae’s relief, Tae didn’t pursue the matter. “If you’d like some more time before I get Makoto—”

“No,” Sae replied, shaking her head. “You have to speak to Makoto, right? I have nothing else to add for the moment.”

* * *

The door creaked open. Makoto quickly rose to her feet as Sae walked out. For a moment, their eyes met; Sae’s face was pained, exhausted. Part of Makoto wanted to ask Sae if she were okay, but she stepped past her without a word. Makoto entered the exam room, taking her seat back on the bed. Tae smiled to her from the computer chair.

“Apologies for the wait,” Tae said, grabbing her clipboard. “I imagine the magazines I have out there aren’t terribly interesting reading material for a college student.”

Makoto chuckled; there had been an assorted stack of “Metalheads Monthly” waiting on the counter.

“I do have a friend who would likely be interested, although she’s handling things for her family’s business right now.”

“Business?”

“Yes, she’s the heiress apparent to her family’s company. Things fell into her hands rather…suddenly last year.” Makoto found herself thinking back to Okumura’s mental shutdown, and the barely composed Haru quickly coordinating everyone’s transportation home. “It’s been very taxing for her, yet she still puts her best foot forward to do what she can.”

“You sound very proud of her.”

She nodded. “I’m proud of all of my friends. They’ve all overcome such massive hurdles this past year, and have the strength to chase after their futures,” Makoto smiled ruefully. “They deserve to be happy.”

Tae scribbled something onto the clipboard. “And what do you deserve?”

Makoto eyes widened. She looked straight to Tae.

“Can you repeat that?”

“I noticed,” Tae said, slowly bringing her clipboard to her lap, “that you said your friends overcame massive hurdles and deserved to be happy. Yet, you left yourself out of that acknowledgement.”

“Oh. Um, yes, I suppose I did.”

Silence.

Makoyo pulled her gaze from Tae and looked over the exam room, waiting for Tae to try to fill the silence. She glanced back; Tae continued to look at her. She shifted her body around, intending to observe the posters behind her. Makoto turned her head back towards Tae again; she was still staring at her.

Makoto willed herself to remain silent; she was a Niijima, like her father before her. Niijimas did not yield, they did not surrender.

“I guess I just don’t know what I deserve anymore.”

_Dammit!_

Tae frowned. 

Makoto felt her insides twisting, but found herself continue on regardless. “I had…I just…” she took a moment to shake her head, to try and collect herself.

“I thought that after everything was finished, I would be happy, but…I’m...”Makoto shrugged. “I’m not sure how to put it into words. There’s just something missing.”

In truth, she knew what was missing. It was the confidence, the assuredness, the dogged pursuit of her goals without hesitation. It was the part of her that radiated with rebellion and the strength to take the future between her hands.

She suddenly noticed Tae’s lips move and thrust the thoughts to the back of her mind.

“Can you, um, repeat that, Dr. Takemi?”

There was something in Tae’s expression that Makoto could not put her finger on. It was at once both curious and sympathetic.

“Of course,” she smiled, and Makoto couldn’t help but flinch at the sheer sincerity of it. “Let’s say you were to go to bed tonight, and when you woke up, that that something missing, that happiness, was there. What would that look like for you?”

Many answers came to mind. The first, and most obvious, being one more day with her father. One more chance to get his advice, his wisdom, his laughter. Others followed suit: Haru finding success in her business; Yusuke, in his art; Sumire, in gymnastics. For Ryuji to be able to provide for his mother in the way he yearned to; for Futaba to continue to find peace; for Ann and Shiho’s love to continue unabated by distance. For Ren and herself to find success in their careers, and continue to study the boundless depths of their affection. To expand their family beyond them, their friends, and…

And…

Makoto took a breath. And then another, just to be on the safe side. She straightened on the bed, and willed her voice to remain level, to not break, to not betray the mask barely holding back the torrent of emotion at the thought of Sae’s current place in her life.

“Happiness for me would be my friends doing well. For my boyfriend,” Makoto blushed at the word,” and I to start our adult lives together. And…for my sister to finally have a break from her many obligations.”

“You really care about her.”

“I do,” Makoto replied, and there was the slightest hitch in her voice. “A…lot happened, after our father passed, and it was just us living together. To have only just graduated law school and losing Dad, not to mention selling our family’s old house, moving, taking care of me…” Makoto shook her head. “I wanted to make things easier on her, to do everything right so Sis wouldn’t have to worry as much.”

_So I wouldn’t be a burden to her._

Tae nodded, slowly. “What did it mean for you to do ‘everything right?’”

“Just trying to do everything that she and other authority figures in my life asked me,” Makoto replied, her right hand gripping the bedsheets. _And everything they forced me to go through._ Memories sprang to mind: standing in Kobayakawa’s office as he threatened her into compliance. Sitting across from Sae at home as she berated her for speaking her mind.

She hoped that Tae would be satisfied, that she would drop the subject there. That was a perfect answer, what more could she—

“You were so worried about the stress Sae was experiencing, that you wanted to be the perfect sister to her.”

Makoto stiffened.

“I-I suppose…” she stammered. In it own way, it was laughable she ever dared to entertain the thought she could do “everything right” for Sae; the woman made clear, time and time again, that nothing Makoto did would ever be enough.

Tae leaned forward a bit in her seat. “It’s natural to want to try to do what you can for someone you love when you see them hurting.” Her gaze met Makoto’s. “It can be stressful, too, trying to be that perfect support for someone.”

“Yes…”

“What helps you to handle stress these days? I recall you mentioning doing aikido with your sister when you were younger.”

“W-well,” Makoto began, “I haven’t many chances to practice my aikido lately. But a bigger part of my relaxation has been through studying. It’s always been a great comfort to me. Being able to dive into an unfamiliar subject and come out knowing that much more,” Makoto closed her eyes for a moment, smiling. She envisioned the days she spent in her bedroom at her father’s home, raindrops tapping against the window as she would read about all sorts of topics. Gentlemen thieves, baking, historical accounts of the yakuza, world history – all of it allowed her to go to a place she could feel secure until her father returned home from work. Even in the wake of his death, escaping into her studies gave her comfort in the chilling silence after an outburst from Sae.

But now…

She frowned. “I will admit that it’s been difficult finding the same level of relief in studying these days.

Studying for university courses is…” Makoto let out a heavy sigh. “Much more demanding than high school.”

Tae nodded sympathetically. “It’s a common experience for students starting university.” She leaned back in her chair, a nostalgic smile spreading across her face. “For me, it was chemistry. Not nearly as fun when you can’t blow something up.”

Makoto raised an eyebrow. “But do you not use chemistry in developing medications?”

“That I do. _And_ I can blow things up whenever I please.”

Both women let out a chuckle. Makoto felt the tension slowly release from her body.

“But it can be overwhelming,” Tae said, returning to a more neutral expression. “To have had something that you loved to do not helping you as much as it used to.”

“Something you loved to do…”

Makoto thought of the Metaverse. She had not discussed the Phantom Thieves much with anyone outside of the other members and Boss. Even Sae, despite her involvement with Shido’s heist and the Grail, was left ignorant to the complete picture of what, exactly, it meant to “fight” on the other side. How could she explain being shot, burned, frozen, electrocuted, and any number of injuries and expect her sister to understand?

How could she explain _she_ had done those very same things to enemies?

How could she explain to anyone, even the other Thieves, that _she enjoyed the fight_? The relief that coursed through her as nuclear explosions decimated Shadows. The anger that would funnel itself out through her fists as they slammed through a Shadow’s chest. The electricity that would course through her veins at the thought that she, with her bare hands, was working to bring the justice her father sacrificed his _life_ for.

“Makoto?”

Makoto shook her head, bringing her attention back to Tae.

“Yes, my apologies. I was lost in thought.”

“No worries, I’ll start again.” Tae leaned forward in her chair. “You’ve been through a lot these last few years. Between your father’s loss, trying to support your sister, all that’s happened this past year, and this adjustment to university. It all sounds it can be very overwhelming, especially when you aren’t finding the same comfort in studying as you once had.”

Makoto nodded.

“Sometimes, when people are experiencing such overwhelming circumstances, some people may feel they’re better off not being alive and having to bear that pain. Have you ever felt that way?”

Makoto shook her head. “No, never. My father gave his life to protect the justice he sought. I want to live my life seeing that justice to its fruition.”

Tae scribbled on her keyboard. “Some others may feel that the pain is so much, they feel a need to take it out physically on another person. Is this a feeling you’ve experienced?”

Makoto opened her mouth to answer.

Nothing came out.

Tae glanced up at her. Gears spun in Makoto’s head, faster and faster, willing her to answer.

“I—”

Several thoughts came to mind:

Late June, Queen atop Johanna, barreling towards Kaneshiro’s Piggytron at full speed. Kaneshiro’s voice, taunting her: “Once you’re out of the way, I’m sure your Big Sis will finally be able to relax. She won’t have a care in the world as my little, lovely _pet_.” The urge to smash her fist into his jaw was overpowering.

Late September, standing with the Thieves as Sugimura’s fingernails dug into Haru’s arm. Watching him push her towards the trashcans and saunter off. The whimpers and fear Haru tried to mask, yet came seeping from her like the trickles of blood down her arm. Makoto’s desire to break his arms and leave him in the alleyway.

The night of the Ren’s interrogation. Queen rushing through the halls of the cognitive police station, incapacitating Cognitive Akechi with a single punch to the face. Her, dragging him across the hall by his hair, tying him up and kicking him into the storage closet.

Makoto massaging Ren’s hair, gripping her cellphone and refusing the urge to ask Futaba to get information on his assailants. Resisting the temptation to barrel into Mementos and crush each one of them until they were nothing more than crying husks on the floor.

Standing in Leblanc as they discuss Shido’s machinations. An utterance of hers unheard by the Thieves, by Boss, by Sae: “A mere change of heart is too lenient a sentence for such an abominable criminal.”

Standing before a defeated Shadow Shido, Queen’s hand trembling next to her revolver, and yet another utterance left unheard: “For causing countless mental shutdowns in others, you _will_ atone…with your life.”

And then, after Maruki’s defeat. Watching a confused Sae admit that _of course_ Ren turned himself into prison, that if he didn’t, Makoto and the rest of the Thieves would have continued to be pursued relentlessly. Maskoto’s anger, dormant, bubbling up, making her think of everything Sae has put her through.

Makoto closed her mouth. Her breathing was becoming uneven. She could only look to Tae and nod.

“When did you first become aware of those thoughts?”

“I’m…not sure,” Makoto mumbled, gaze falling to her lap. “In the moment when my, uh, _group_ , was doing our… _activities_ , these thoughts just came and went.”

She glanced up to Tae for a moment, hoping the woman would understand her hint. She never knew how much Ren told his Confidants of his adventures in the Metaverse; however, given Tae helping to fix up his more severe wounds from Palaces & Mementos, she was likely aware of the true nature of their efforts.

Tae nodded, slowly. “I see. Given the _circumstances_ of your group, I can see why those thoughts may crop up in the moment. To have dealt with what you kids had…” Tae trailed off, frowning.

“What have you felt when those thoughts came to mind?”

Makoto clenched her fists. She thought about the Mementos Incident, and the last words she yelled to Panther before Joker stepped in. The looks on her friends’ faces as they emerged from Mementos that night.

“Worry, that I’m only going to distract everyone else,” Makoto whispered, tears bristling at the corners of her eyes. “They’ve started to move on towards the futures we swore to carve out for ourselves. But this…it just makes me feel like I’ve only been running in place without realizing it.”

“I think the fact that you’re here, telling this about yourself, is a sign of movement.” Makoto glanced up to Tae, still trying to will herself not to cry. “You said you and your sister were all you had after your father died. Yet, you’re here, seeking support from someone else.”

Makoto remained silent, feeling Tae’s attention on her.

“So far, we’ve talked about thoughts in the past. Have similar thoughts come up again recently?”

Another pause.

“…Yes.”

“Is there someone specific that comes to mind when you’ve had these thoughts, and have you thought about how you would hurt them?”

> _**You don’t “see” how much I want to throw one of my course books at your face.** _
> 
> _**I could easily lob a fist into your stomach.** _
> 
> _**What would it be like to have my justice with her?** _

“No.”

The word was like battery acid on her tongue. Her body felt as though a rock dropped into the pit of her stomach, splashing wave after wave of corrosive anxiety.

She looked up, meeting Tae’s gaze. Ten seconds. Twenty seconds. Thirty seconds.

Tae, mercifully, broke eye contact. “Okay. I understand this may be difficult to talk about, so I want you to know that my door is open if you do begin to notice these thoughts becoming more specific and planned out.”

“I understand, Dr. Takemi. Thank you.”

Tae smiled. “This will be the last thing we do on this topic before I have you and Sae finish the rest of the paperwork.”

Makoto nodded.

“However, it would be helpful to have Sae in here for us to finish this discussion.”

“Why?”

“I want to do something called a stress plan with both of you. It’s something that can be helpful when you’re feeling overwhelmed and helps you to consider more helpful alternatives to what may be coming to mind.”

Tae rapped her fingers against her clipboard. “Is that okay, Makoto?”

Makoto, unconsciously bringing her hands to her stomach, agreed. As Tae walked to the door to get Sae, the anxiety only grew.

* * *

**SATURDAY, JULY 29TH, 2017  
Evening / Makoto Apartment  
Days Until Follow-Up Appointment: 7**  
  
Makoto fell back onto her bed, fresh out of the shower. A container of the dinner Ren cooked continued to spin in the kitchen microwave. She heaved a heavy sigh.  
  
After Sae had been brought back in from the waiting room, Makoto gave her an abridged version of her conversation with Tae. She purposefully left out the finer details around her thoughts, as well as the ones currently plaguing her. Sae, predictably, dismissed these thoughts as being "in the past," and “something Makoto will handle.” Makoto, looking into her sister's eyes and seeing the faintest shimmer of those casino lights, acquiesced.

Just like she’d always done.  
  
She rolled over towards the dresser, finding a copy of the stress plan she created with Sae and Tae sitting atop her laptop.  
  
"I'm not understanding how this is supposed to help us with our problem, doctor," Sae had announced, looking down at the worksheet. Makoto glanced over in her direction, stomach still churning from her discussion with Tae.  
  
Tae spun her chair slightly towards Sae's direction, offering a gentle smile. "These worksheets are a way for us to get an idea of the supports you both have -- individually and as a collective."  
  
In the present, Makoto pulled the piece of paper to her face, reading down the list:

  
  
 **How to identify I'm feeling overwhelmed _  
_** _General irritation  
Festering in negative emotions_ (Sae's contribution)  
  
 **What helps to calm me down**  
 _Studying_ (Sae's contribution)  
 _Hugging Buchimaru-kun_ (Sae’s contribution)  
  
 **What places are soothing for me**  
 _Cafe Leblanc  
Inokashira Park_  
  
 **People I can go to for help**  
 _Ren Amamiya_

_Sae Niijima_

Sae had suggested his name. There was a level of bitterness in the way she had said it that had made Makoto gulp.

“Is there anyone else you can think of that you would feel comfortable approaching?” Tae had asked. Makoto could feel Sae’s gaze linger on her. She turned to face her; her sister’s eyes were narrowed.

“You know you can come to me, right, Makoto?” If Makoto hadn’t been facing her, she may have been soothed by the gentleness of the words. But Sae's true feelings were writ across her face: the quiver of the lip, the pulsing vein, and the storm beneath the surface of her eyes.

Absentmindedly, Makoto reached for the dresser, fingers finding her Buchimaru pencil case. She grasped a black sharpie in her hand, bringing it to the paper.

A single swipe across, and she let the marker and paper fall to the floor as the microwave beeped. Makoto rose from the bed, dragging herself to the kitchen.

On her bedroom floor, the ink continued to bleed over Sae Niijima’s name until it dried out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOSE READY FOR A LONG END NOTES SECTION (this chapter is already so long i'm sorry, lmao)
> 
> PLOTTING
> 
> I can't say I'm particularly happy with this chapter? It feels like it ended up being a "this is here because it's necessary" deal. During planning, I had always known this chapter would be one of the hardest to write. This is probably the only part of the story that's covering an entire session for these two; future ones will have snippets of the important bits. I chose to make this whole chapter just the session because I wanted to take some time to explore each of them discussing where they're at with Tae following their individual sections, and show the rapport building that starts in the first session (and goes into the second, and third, etc...).
> 
> Something I definitely knew I wanted to cover was confidentiality & risk assessment. Similar to how you can operate under the assumption Maruki covered confidentiality (ThoughtBubble on YouTube has an excellent video series examining Maruki as a counselor), I too operated under the assumption he covered risk with all of the students he worked with off-screen. I wanted to have Tae go through both of these with the Niijima sisters, as it's not only good care, but there were two particular lines of dialogue from Makoto in vanilla & Royal that made me consider this route with her.
> 
> In the Leblanc meeting after Joker is saved from the interrogation, the Thieves (+ Sae & Sojiro) start discussing Shido. Makoto has a line of dialogue here that really sticks out: "A mere change of heart is too lenient a sentence for such an abominable criminal." It's followed up by Haru talking about keeping Joker hidden as part of their plan to discredit the conspiracy, but taken by itself, it's pretty brutal?
> 
> It then gets compounded by THIS line of dialogue from Makoto after defeating Shido: ""For causing countless mental shutdowns in others, you will atone...with your life." The line read, coupled with the prior line, makes it feel a bit less ambiguous, and did raise an interesting question for me of "oh my god did Makoto really think about killing Shido?"
> 
> Factor in the Shumako romance, the murder plan, and post-interrogation angst, and I felt like there was fertile ground to pursue this as a definite consideration Makoto entertained, but chose not to follow. 
> 
> MAKOTO & VIOLENCE
> 
> This was probably one of the very first things that came to mind in trying to plan this fic out. I talked about it a bit last chapter, but Makoto has a lot going on. Central to this is her trying to figure out how to Move On from what it meant to be a Phantom Thief, and figuring out how to live life not as "Makoto the Sycophant," or "Queen," but just as Makoto Niijima. 
> 
> Chapters 1-4 were primarily her trying to approach Sae as an equal, and struggling with the parts of "Makoto the Sycophant" that became a mask to let her survive tense encounters with Sae for the last three years. Chapter 7 & 8 start dealing with more of the loss of Queen and what that's meant to her.
> 
> This chapter I wanted to build off of that more, in looking at what exactly Queen provided to Makoto: a healthy release valve for her anger. Beforehand, she was being pushed around and talked down to by Sae, Kobayakawa, Akechi, Kaneshiro, other students -- even the Thieves! On top of that, she was trying to achieve justice for the people around her, only to be met with barrier after barrier after barrier. Just as Joker is the flashier, more dramatic(ally dorky) version of Ren, Queen is the more angry and confident version of Makoto. 
> 
> Whereas she just had studying before, as Queen she could stroll into Mementos and light it up like Times Square on a bunch of monsters that just respawn after a bit. She was *encouraged* to let her anger out, to fight, to tear down the edifices of a broken system and replace them with her bare hands.
> 
> Now, she doesn't have that anymore. But she still has all of that anger. Anger has only grown as the Thieves have experienced all that they did with the Grail, Maruki, and Ren's arrest. So far, it hasn't had anywhere to go. Studying used to be an outlet, but it isn't as helpful as it once was, and Makoto even describes it as being *stressful* given the jump to university level expectations.
> 
> This is why Tae opts to do the stress/safety plan, as a way to try to help Makoto steer that anger into something else before it actually translates to a deliberate act of physical harm.


	10. To Heal & To Hurt

**MONDAY, JULY 31 st, 2017**

**Evening / Makoto’s Apartment**

**Days Until Follow-Up Appointment: 5**

Seated at the head of her bed, Makoto stared at the Buchimaru pencil case on the bedside table.

His worn, slightly loosened beds for eyes stared back.

She groaned, allowing her forehead to rest on top of her laptop. One of her hands pressed on the back of the computer, while the other was balled in a fist atop the keys. A series of multiple choices questions filled up the screen. In the upper right-hand corner of the window, an ominous, red-colored text:

**QUIZ DEADLINE: WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 2 ND, 2017, 11:59AM**

**GRADES RELEASED THE FOLLOWING DAY**

Makoto exhaled from her nose.

She pulled herself upright.

She placed her fingers back on the keyboard.

And, with another, forlorn look to Buchimaru, she continued.

She had long known reality was painful.

She knew that life could change in an instant. Just like it had in the hours between goodbyes with her father before the school day and coming home to a police officer delivering news of a car crash by evening.

In the ways her sister’s face would when she said something Sae did not want to hear. Or the way Ren had the night after the interrogation, where all his confidence shattered the moment it was just her in the room to hold him close and hold those last few pieces together as he sobbed into her shoulder.

Reality wasn’t kind.

It was _unforgiving_.

And yet, she fought for it all the same.

Even if the fake world Maruki so cruelly crafted gave her back the family unit she so deeply yearned for in the parts of her heart she didn’t dare acknowledge. Even if that very part of her couldn’t look Ren in the face without the distant, cruel association of him and losing her family again.

She would be _damned_ before she _ever_ allowed someone else to make her decisions for her again.

That was why she put up with it all.

The rejection from Waseda.

The reluctant yes she gave to Tokyo University.

The classes she so hoped to build further community in, only to find them filled with the same robotic looks that she used to see whenever she gazed into the mirror before that memorable day she awoke to Johanna.

The whispered wishes in the halls for fame, fortune, and never justice.

The classwork that would only keep piling on and on, unending, and the sinking feeling of watching herself being slowly outpaced as her scores slipped:

94.

91.

90.

87.

No matter how much she tried to study, how much she tried to put herself out there in class, it seemed to take everything she had to keep herself afloat just below where she wanted to be. Where she used to be. Where Sae had long demanded she should be.

But this was the reality she fought for.

This was her truth to bear.

And Makoto Niijima would put up with it all.

For giving into her frustration would only make her like…

* * *

**TUESDAY, AUGUST 1 ST, 2017**

**Morning / Tokyo Juvenile Correctional Facility**

**Days Until Follow-Up Appointment: 4**

“ _You’re_ Sae Niijima?”

“Yes.”

“Tch,” the young woman on the other end of the table scoffed. Her neck was adorned with the beginnings of a tattoo, matching her charcoal prison uniform. Her face, framed by messy brown bangs, was twisted in disgust.

“Some prissy rich lady like you is gonna be my defense lawyer? _Please_.”

There was the familiar electricity in her veins. The venom on her tongue begging to be let out into a scathing sentence. All her worst impulses.

Sae pushed it down.

“I can understand your hesitance.”

The young woman stood, slamming her hands on the table. “You understand? You don’t

_SLAM_

“know”

_SLAM_

“ _shit_ ”

_SLAM_

“about me!”

Sae glanced around the room, waving her hand dismissively as guards started to approach their table. She turned her focus back to the girl. Her entire body seemed to heave with her breath. In many ways, it reminded Sae of…

_Huddling behind the door, listening to her father’s footsteps approach her mother._

“You’re right,” Sae said, ignoring the memories prickling at the forefront of her mind. The girl merely turned her head, confused. Sae placed a manilla folder on the table. Various documents and pictures poked out of one corner. “I don’t know much about you outside of what’s written there. That’s why I’d like to know you better.”

“Who the fuck cares?” The girl plopped down in her chair, crossing her arms. “That right there’s been good enough for you suits this whole time,” she declared, nodding her head towards the file. “Why should it be any different now?”

For a brief second, looking at the girl, Sae could swear she saw the bruised, beaten face of Amamiya that November night. The same defiance. The same, desperate need to be utterly obnoxious to hide the pain underneath.

“There are many things others consider ‘good enough’ in this line of work,” Sae replied, focusing on the girl’s eyes. The pain. The fear. The lone flickers of hope that dared to show. “‘Good enough’ gets people like yourself thrown into a sentence they don’t deserve.”

Again, she thought of Amamiya. The resigned look on his eyes as she led him to the station to turn himself in. The horror on Makoto’s face when she came home one February morning, asking Makoto where he was. How Makoto was somehow shocked at Amamiya’s disappearance despite the boy having been in jail since Christmas.

“’Good enough’ doesn’t help those who were let down by a community, a family, a…” Sae swallowed, feeling the swell of memories tug at her.

_8 years old, her mother’s whispers, her father’s footsteps, the crack of his hand._

“A father, who was supposed to protect you, and only hurt you instead.”

Sae looked the girl in the eyes.

“’Good enough’ _isn’t_ justice.”

The girl eyes widened. She lowered her arms down to the table, her full attention on Sae. The anger in her face dulled, replaced by a sadness that seemed to creep into every contour of her face.

Where the girl once reminded her of Amamiya, she now reminded Sae of her childhood self. The trepidation. The abandonment. The resentment.

And yet, she couldn’t quite name it, but something about the girl reminded her of…

* * *

**THURSDAY, AUGUST 3 RD, 2017**

**Early Afternoon / Makoto’s Apartment**

**Days Until Follow-Up Appointment: 2**

Makoto slammed the laptop shut.

She grabbed the Buchimaru plush on her bed and buried her face into him. Several minutes passed; several, frustrated screams muffled by Buchimaru’s embrace.

She slowly raised her head up, eyes reddened, throat raw. Buchimaru’s side was wet, the fur matted and wild. She placed him back down on the bed, muttering an apology.

Makoto reached in her pocket, pulling out her phone. There were reminders on her calendar for the next two weeks – “study 3PM – 8PM, Continue Writing Essay on The Rise & Fall of the Kuramoto Children Due August 12th 11:59PM.” Her fist clenched against her phone. Anger bubbled over in her stomach, threatening to spill outward, to smash its way out through her fist.

She reached under the bed, an anxious spark running up her fingers as she touched the paper she loathed to need. With a sigh, Makoto drew the paper up – the stress plan. She tried to ignore the pang in her chest at the sight of Sae’s name crossed out.

She hadn’t told Ren about it when he was here Sunday morning. She couldn’t. She was supposed to be his _equal_. They were supposed to work for, achieve, their dreams together. How could she support him in his dreams if she only distracted him with _her_ problems?

It was ridiculous. She needed to study. She needed to get her essay done. but she needed a distraction. She needed anything other than the thought of school. Her finger scrolled to her messages.

She opened the group chat.

She typed.

> Hello, everyone. It appears that I may have an opening in my schedule tomorrow evening. Would any of you be free to meet up?

She expected a reply immediately. A minute passed. And another, and another.

After five minutes, dots rushed by on the screen.

> I’m sorry, Mako-chan, I am out of town this week and next for business meeting with Takeharu-san. ☹ We are in talks to begin satellite bakeries for Okumura Foods.
> 
> I am rather busy myself with an extensive commission. Deepest apologies, Makoto.
> 
> I can hang out!
> 
> Don’t you have an essay to write?
> 
> Ann, you’re _supposed_ to be on my side here!
> 
> Makoto: Futaba.
> 
> _Fiiiiiiiiiiine_.
> 
> I am quite busy as well for the next few weeks. Coach Hiraguchi is leading me through a new gymnastics routine. My most sincere apologies, Makoto-senpai.

Her phone buzzed twice. She looked again, finding another two sets of messages. The most recent was from Ren.

> Y’know, if you need company, I could just stay with you full time during the week…
> 
> And have you distract me all hours of the school week? Not a chance.
> 
> But you looooove me.
> 
> Yes, I do, and you are also incredibly distracting.
> 
> Boo.
> 
> Or should I say—
> 
> Don’t even think about it.
> 
> angry emoji
> 
> …Did you just type out “angry emoji?”
> 
> I don’t know how to use them yet!
> 
> That’s actually really precious.
> 
> Imagine I attached an eye rolling emoji to this message.
> 
> <3
> 
> But seriously, I can be over there tomorrow if you’d like me to.
> 
> Ren, I appreciate it, but do you not already have plans?
> 
> Well, yes, but Shinya would understand if I can’t meet up.
> 
> You would cancel plans on a child?
> 
> C’mon Makoto, he’s not a child.
> 
> He’s 12 years old.
> 
> …To be fair, he _did_ teach me how to shoot a gun.
> 
> A toy gun. _For children_.
> 
> ☹
> 
> Ren, keep your plans. I’ll be fine.
> 
> Are you sure?
> 
> Yes, I’m sure. Besides, I don’t believe Yoshida-san is paying you to sit around and text your girlfriend.
> 
> Hey, I’m just taking a quick break while I set-up his social media accounts. He’d been relying on just newspaper ads in the last election cycle, I figure this would help give him a better shot connecting with his audience.
> 
> ...You have made sure Futaba doesn’t have access to the log-ins, correct?
> 
> Oh come on! I wouldn’t have done anything that bad!
> 
> Oh, oops. You saw nothing!
> 
> Futaba! What have I told you about hacking our text messages?
> 
> eep
> 
> …I’ll go change his passwords now.
> 
> I love you.
> 
> I love you too.
> 
> (Mona says this is gross btw.)
> 
> FUTABA
> 
> FUTABA

Makoto sighed, chuckling as she shook her head. Maybe the stress plan was useful after all. She scrolled down to the next message. Her breath hitched in her throat.

> Hey, Makoto! I should have some downtime tomorrow. Shiho had to cancel our Netflix date for a doctor’s appointment, and I’m not scheduled for any modeling gigs till next week.
> 
> I won't argue if you want to treat us both to crepes! 😋

She paused.

She thought of Ann directly after the Mementos Incident, unable to look her in the eyes.

She thought of Panther, pinned to the ground beneath Queen, her fists barreling down—.

Her fingers danced in a flurry across the screen. She hit “send” before fully realizing what she had typed.

> Hello, Ann. I just recalled a rather extensive assignment I have due at this end of this week. I’m sorry to have put an invitation out without truly confirming my availability.
> 
> Makoto, don’t worry about it! There’s always next time. 😊
> 
> Honestly, if it were me, I’d be putting all that homework off till the last minute. I wish I could be half as dedicated as you!

Makoto read the text over again.

And again.

And again.

“Half as dedicated as me…”

Makoto grabbed the stress plan. It crumpled into itself as she clenched it tighter. She balled it up and tossed it into the corner of her room.

It was useless.

In the back of her mind, Sae’s voice: _“You’re useless to me.”_

**_And now I'm useless to them, too._ **

Makoto forced herself to open her laptop, and immediately opened a text document to begin her essay.

“I can do this. They believe in me. They trust me. They expect this of me…”

She shook her head.

She set back to work.

Behind the window of the text document, the webpage of the class sat still, mocking her with the words that would haunt her long after she went to bed.

**QUIZ GRADE: 79**

* * *

**FRIDAY, AUGUST 4 TH, 2017**

**Evening/ Crossroads Bar**

**Days Until Follow-Up Appointment: 1**

“…stabbed their parent in self-defense. The neighbor called the police, and they were arrested on the spot. From there, they were thrown into a cell with two other individuals, and they’ve been there ever since. This was the first meeting I’ve had with them.”

Sae, seated at the barstool, shook her head. Yasuko sat beside her, listening intently. Sae was glad she chose to wore sunglasses today. It helped to hide the dark circles under her eyes, and the pit of sadness growing as she thought about the case.

It was funny, in a way. As a prosecutor, she had seen many disturbing cases. Human trafficking, indoctrination into cults, political abuses. Yet, as a prosecutor, she was on the end of the court that delivered justice by any means: throwing the offender in the cage, destroying the key, and leaving them to rot for the remainder of their days. There was always a thrill to it; the glee in her face as she watched criminals dragged to their sentencing. The electricity in her veins as she’d look over to the defense with a shark’s grin. She didn’t know when, but at some point, those became the only moments she had truly felt alive.

It was different now, ever since the events in her Palace. With every motion, every step, she felt life surge within her. Yet, that came at an unexpected price. She found it harder to disengage from the stories that would circulate around the office. Where she once only saw the trash she swore victory against, she now noticed the survivors of their abuses, and the victims that didn’t make it. She witnessed their struggles, heard their unmet pleas, felt just the smallest sliver of their pain.

“There are already whispers in the office about the result.” Sae’s eyes fell to the drink in her hands. “It seems the prosecution is looking to charge pursuant to Penal Code Article 204.” Sae lowered herself closer to her drink. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they elected to sentence them with the full 15 years of imprisonment.”

“…How old are they? Your client?” Yasuko asked, quietly.

“Sixteen.”

Sae jumped a bit when Yasuko slammed her fist against the bar. The nearby patrons all glanced in their direction. Lala poked her head in from the back room, raising an eyebrow. Yasuko gave a nervous laugh, and quickly muttered an apology. Lala sighed; the other patrons all turned back to their conversations.

Yasuko turned back towards Sae, a storm in her eyes.

“They’re a child!” she whispered. She shook her head with a vigor. “They can’t do that to them!”

Sae gripped her drink tighter. “They can, and they will if I fail.”

“But that’s—”

“Yasuko,” Sae began, interrupting the woman. She lifted herself from her slump, meeting her gaze. “Do you recall what Dr. Hiraguchi would say of our criminal justice system before class would begin?”

Yasuko exhaled, closing her eyes. Her voice was low, pained. “Our country boasts a 98% conviction rating. Japan serves as an example to strive to, for all those who seek the promotion of a truly just society.” Yasuko opened her eyes. The storm in them only grew more intense.

“But that’s _not_ what true justice is.” Yasuko grabbed her drinking, taking a chug. She set it down on the table, running a hand through her hair. “True justice wouldn’t destroy a child’s future like that. They don’t need prison; what they n _eed_ someone that would keep them _safe_.”

“The prosecution won’t see that,” Sae droned, still looking to her drink. “All they would see is a child who stabbed their parent.” Sae shook her head. “Given the child’s well-documented anger towards the ‘victim,’ they may even go as far as to say it was a premeditated attempt at murder.”

Her heart ached. She knew this because that’s what _she_ would have done a year ago. Up the ante, hedge her bets as high as she could. High risk, high reward. The electricity, the high, would have been unmatched.

Sae noticed Yasuko talking, and shook herself from her thoughts.

“It’s so… _callous_! They’re so eager to punish a child who defended themselves after years of one of their parents abusing them. Don’t they understand what that can do to a kid?”

Yasuko scowled. “Withholding meals, beatings, assaulting their partner… For the prosecution to lock a child away, just for defending themselves from someone who should have been protecting them and their family…!”

_Protecting their family…_

“True justice wouldn’t—” Yasuko paused, her eyes widening as she looked to Sae. Her hands were shaking.

“Sae?”

No response.

Yasuko placed a hand on Sae’s shoulder. She flinched away at the contact.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.”

“That’s bullshit, look at you.”

Anger bubbled in her stomach. “Yasuko. I am fine, stop inquiring.”

“Sae—"

Sae turned to Yasuko. Her hands continued to shake, but her lips were drawn in a snarl. “I said, it’s _nothing_. If I needed your help, I would have asked for it.”

“I was just trying to—"

“Trying to what?” She stood, glowering down at the woman. The other patrons turned their heads, but she didn’t care. All she felt was the anger, the resentment, the memories of her father’s yelling, burning within her.

“I don’t need your help; I don’t need _anyone’s_ help. I’ve handled _everything_ on my own all this time, so please, don’t sit there and imply that _I_ have a problem.”

“I was just—

“There would never _be_ a problem if you just did what I _told you_ , Mako—”

Sae caught herself. She closed her mouth. She sat down in her chair, turned away from Yasuko, and pinched the bridge of her nose. Around her, she could hear the conversations of the patrons resume once again.

She felt something – Yasuko, shift in the seat beside her. A minute passed; they sat in silence.

“You know,” Yasuko whispered. Sae didn’t turn around. “Sometimes, the world gives people this heavy, burdensome weight to carry. These expectations of being the perfect child, the perfect worker…”

Yasuko glanced towards the ceiling; her eyes were obscured by her bangs. “The perfect spouse…” The phrase hung in the air.

She shook her head, bringing her gaze back to Sae. “But that weight isn’t _made_ to be carried alone, because if you try, it’ll just crush you so thoroughly, so completely, that you’re ready to be molded into whatever other people want you to be. Force you to be.”

Sae didn’t realize she had turned back to Yasuko, until she could see a fire burning in the woman’s eyes. Yasuko took a quick breath – in, out – before she continued. “That’s why it’s necessary to share that weight with other people. It’s easy to be crushed when you’re alone, but when you’re standing with other people, all of you holding up your weights as one, you become something that can’t be molded.”

Yasuko smiled, shrugging. “At least, that made sense in my head as I was talking. I’m really not that great at public speaking.”

Sae, to her own surprise, chuckled. “Was Dr. Sato not the judge of that?”

Yasuko shuddered. “Don’t remind me! There are few things I can think of that are scarier than walking into that woman’s class each day…”

Both women laughed. Yasuko smile fell, her eyes still on Sae. “I don’t know the full story of what’s going on, but…you can talk to me. Y’know?”

Sae frowned.

“You don’t have to now!” Yasuko said, holding up a hand. “But when you’re ready, I mean.” Yasuko looked to the side, and sighed. She hesitantly brought her hand to Sae’s shoulder. The warmth of it sent a shiver down Sae’s spine.

“I just…” Yasuko paused, her eyes wide as saucers. Sae raised an eyebrow.

“Koko?! Is that you?!”

“Angel, I think it is!”

Sae turned around. Two men, dressed in flowery shirts and white khakis, stood holding hands. One – Angel, was clean-shaven, and the other had a full beard.

“Angel, Julian…I…” The men began to step closer but stopped upon seeing the scowl on Sae’s face. To her pleasant surprise, her glare was still as potent even behind sunglasses.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Sae demanded. Although she had many regrets from her time as a prosecutor, she would always value learning how to command situations. 

The other man, Julian, raised his hands before him. “S-sorry, sorry! We should have known how that looked.”

“Please, forgive us!” Angel added, bowing.

“Sae,” Yasuko said, shaking her head. “It’s fine. They’re…” she looked down for a moment, before adding, “they’re friends of mine.”

Sae raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Oh yes, sweetheart!” Angel declared, smiling. “We go _way_ back with Koko here!”

Yasuko offered a small smile. “It’s only been a year, Angel.”

“A year _and_ some change,” Julian added, winking to Sae. He stepped up to Yasuko. “I thought I was seeing things, but it really was you. It’s been a long time, I’m glad to see your safe. And from the looks of it,” he said, glancing towards Sae, “you’ve been on a few dat—”

Yasuko scrambled to her feet, wrapping an arm around Julian’s shoulders. “Ignore him Sae, he’s probably had a _bit too much to drink_ ,” Yasuko smiled, a blush quickly rising to her cheeks. Julian laughed, untangling Yasuko’s arm and wrapping his hand around Angel’s waist. He kissed the other man gently on the forehead.

“Oh honey, he’s just teasing!” Angel laughed.

Yasuko rolled her eyes, a playful smile on her face. “Yeah, yeah.”

Julian nodded in her direction, then frowned. “But really, it’s good to see you’re doing well. After you haven’t been showing up on Tuesdays, well…” he closed his eyes for a moment. Angel frowned, wrapping his fingers into Julian’s and giving them a squeeze. Sae noticed Yasuko gulp.

“We were worried that…that he had—"

“I’m okay,” Yasuko interrupted. “He…hasn’t caused me any trouble. I’ve just…” she looked down to her feet, twirling her flat around. “I’ve just been busy, is all.”

Angel and Julian looked at her for a few moments. Julian opened his mouth to reply, but Angel cut him off.

“Alright, sweetheart. I believe you. But if things start to get hard, you know you can come to us, alright? We and the rest of the group care about you, and want you to be safe.”

Yasuko gave a single nod. “I know, and I have been. I’ll…try, to stop by.” Yasuko looked up, smiling faintly. “Once I’m not as busy.” Julian and Angel let go of each other, and took turns exchanging hugs with the woman.

“We’ll hold you to that, sweetheart.”

“If you need anything, let us know, okay?”

“I will, I will.”

The men turned to Sae once more. “Thank you again for looking after Koko, Ms…?”

“Sae. And of course. She’s…” Sae stole a glance to Yasuko, watching her retake her seat. There was a distant look in her eyes. “A good friend.”

Julian smiled. “We’ll trust trust her with you, then. Thank you, Sae-san.” Julian and Angel walked out of the bar, hand in hand. Sae took a seat beside Yasuko, waiting for her to speak.

A minute passed.

Then another.

To her own surprise, it was Sae that spoke first.

“Do…you wish, to speak about this, Yasuko?”

“…No. I’d rather not.”

Sae looked at her, before taking another sip of her drink. “So much for sharing that weight with others,” she mumbled coolly. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Yasuko bristle. She sighed, and placed her arms on the table.

“Sae?”

“Yes?”

Yasuko’s voice was low. “Have you ever felt afraid, that if you admit to something you’ve experienced, or done…that by being vulnerable, that you’d just be inviting hurt to yourself?”

Sae thought.

She thought of her childhood with her father, how she’d be able to tell when he was home by the screaming matches between her parents, the rancid scent of beer, and the tension that seemed to permeate the household the moment he stepped through the door. She, too, thought of the elated way Makoto would speak of their father. Those seemingly innumerable tales of fun adventures and bonding and care that she received from him. How she got every bit of love and affection from the man that only hurt their mother right up until she...

Sae exhaled.

“I have felt that fear. Or maybe it is more accurate to say…I _feel_ it,” Sae whispered. She felt Yasuko’s attention on her for a moment, and then it was gone.

“Listen, I…” Yasuko began. She took a deep breath. “Next Friday. Why don’t we meet here again, next Friday. And talk. About your stuff, my stuff, and—.”

“We’ll share each other’s weight?” A faint smile crossed Sae’s face.

Yasuko smiled ruefully. “And we’ll become something that can’t be molded.”

The two women sat in silence, together, until they parted for the night.

* * *

**SATURDAY, AUGUST 5 TH, 2017**

**Afternoon / Takemi Medical Clinic**

“And so, what are your goals for therapy?”

Sae’s attention snapped up to Tae. The doctor held her clipboard in hand, twirling a pen between her fingers. Sae felt Makoto’s gaze on her. There was something in it that felt familiar, yet foreign; there was that expectance that had irritated her in the years since their father’s passing, but something else she could not name.

“What do you mean by ‘goals?’”

Tae continued to twirl the pen, but kept her attention glued to the two sisters. “What you want to accomplish by the end of our time together. For some families, this can be as simple as making it through a dinner together. For others, it can be as complex as planning a multi-national two-month vacation together.”

Tae caught the pen, placing it on the desk behind her. “I’m interested to hear what it is you both wish to accomplish, together.”

Sae waited a beat for Makoto to speak; she did not. “As I said in our last meeting, I would like Makoto and I to be closer. Like we used to be.” She noticed Makoto shift beside her.

“And what would closer look like?”

Sae prepared to reply, but it was Makoto who spoke up.

“I…worry about Sis. She had been overworked for so long, it…it must be hard for her to be able to make time to have space from it all.” Makoto felt a churning in her stomach. In her head, her own voice, small but insistent, pleaded with her: _And I’m angry she abandoned me, that she ridiculed me, that she tried to force me to just be what she demanded I be._ Makoto gulped, and forced her thoughts to quiet.

Tae nodded. “Closer would be being able to spend more enjoyable and relaxing time together.” Makoto gave a weak nod. “And you, Sae? What would closer be like for you?”

“I think Makoto captured it well. I would enjoy being able to spend more time together, just the two of us. I worry about her future, given the previous year’s events and certain… _company_ she keeps,” Sae said, eyes narrowing at the thought of a certain frizzy haired boy. Makoto, again, shifted beside her.

“I see. Having time to spend together and being able to share you worries and concerns in an open way.”

“Yes…” Sae replied. She paused for a moment, unsure of if she should continue. Then she remembered the previous night with Yasuko.

> _“That’s why it’s necessary to share that weight with other people. It’s easy to be crushed when you’re alone, but when you’re standing with others, all of you holding up your weights as one, you become something that can’t be molded.”_

She recalled her thoughts on their father. All the things Makoto knew of him, and all those Sae had tried to bury. She remembered watching them from afar one day, the bright smiles on his and Makoto’s faces. How contrary they were to the scowl on his face, the exhaustion in their mother’s, and the tears that would dribble down Sae’s face onto the floor. Where all she could do as a child was listen. Where all she felt was…

 _Useless_.

“…And,” Sae began, gripping at her pants, “in being closer, be able to admit…the things that are hard to say. The difficult feelings…the…,” Sae looked to the ground.

“ _Envy_ , I have of her.”

She heard the softest “what” from Makoto beside her. Tae regarded Sae with a curious expression. “What do you mean by envy?”

Sae opened her mouth to respond, but a shrill ring filled the exam room. Sae reached into her pocket, pulling out her phone. She noticed the Caller ID: _Tokyo Courthouse_.

“I apologize, but it seems I have a work emergency,” Sae explained, standing up and moving towards the door. She looked back at Tae and Makoto, grimacing. “Can we continue this discussion next visit?”

“Yes, that is alright with me, we were nearly approaching the end of our time regardless. Is it alright if we end here, Makoto?”

“Um, yes, of course. Thank you, Dr. Takemi.” Makoto rose from her seat. She watched as Sae hurried through the door, phone raised to her ear and exasperation laden on her face.

* * *

Makoto exchanged a few pleasantries with Tae, before exiting onto the Yongen-Jaya streets. She felt detached from her own body, only able to witness the motions as her feet brought her to the station and boarded the train back to her apartment.

She entered her door, threw her bag down on the floor of her bedroom, and collapsed on her bed.

She grabbed Buchimaru with one hand and brought it close to her face. She found the one question on her mind escape from her lips:

“Why would Sis be envious of _me_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo the structure for this chapter is a wee bit different from most. I knew I wanted to end with them having their follow-up with Takemi, so I decided to do mini-vignette almost entries for different days during the week. This to help give a bit more insight into both how the work week typically looks like for Makoto & Sae, but also touch a bit on how they're both shifting a bit now that they've started to have to think about their feelings more in-depth & show how they're trying to utilize their support systems. Or in Makoto's case, not really using them as much as she could/should.
> 
> And now for good and sad news.
> 
> Sad news first: I think I will probably move updates to once a month for the time being. With the pandemic striking in my home state really hard in the beginning, I was furloughed from my part-time job, and a lot of the full-time positions I was looking into started a freeze on new hires. Now that the state is in a more stable condition (for now...), a lot of these positions are becoming open again, so I'm trying to devote more time to applications and interviews to hopefully settle on something full-time in the near future. To that end, I don't want to just rush out chapters out of obligation; I want to make sure that I continue to enjoy writing this story and liking what I put out for it, if that makes sense.
> 
> On the up side though, I've also had ideas in mind for one-shots, which I'll be randomly posting up on here as I finish them! They're kind of supplementary -- they won't necessarily directly link to the events of this story, but they can be considered to be taking place in the same general overall timeline of events. 
> 
> Again, thank you all so much for reading and commenting!!! I really, really do appreciate it, and I love reading your thoughts and insights and the discussions we are able to have. I'm behind on responses, but I'm hoping to catch up soon. 😭
> 
> Chapter 11, "At the Heart of Envy," will be posted sometime in September!


	11. At the Heart of Envy, Part I: Makoto

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNINGS FOR THIS SET OF CHAPTERS: thoughts of self-harm, references to prior self-harm, depiction of police brutality, descriptions of intimate partner violence, mentions of physical and sexual assault(s) depicted in Persona 5
> 
> PLEASE NOTE: This chapter was originally posted all as one, but for the sake of giving everything its proper spacing, I've split it into three. If you read the original, chapters 12 & 13 are basically what you read in the novella-sized one lol.
> 
> 𝅘𝅥𝅮 venus, planet of love,  
> was destroyed by global warming.  
> did its people want too much, too?  
> did its people want too much? 
> 
> and i don't want your pity,  
> i just want somebody near me.  
> guess i'm a coward,  
> i just want to feel alright 𝅘𝅥𝅮
> 
>   
> allow me to preface this by saying that I do really like Sumire

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 6 TH, 2017**

**Afternoon / Makoto’s Apartment: Bedroom**

**Days Until Follow-up Appointment: 6**

It was funny.

She opened her closet door, pulling out a purple mat. It scratched against the carpet as she dragged it towards the front of her bed.

It had been over a year ago since Eiko had first called her a robot. At the time, she bristled at the comment. Even more so when she asked Ren for reassurance, and he offered a (albeit, comical in hindsight,) playful "beep boop."

The memory was warm. It was funny. And yet, there was a raw, bitter truth to it.

She looked down. It appeared she had already spread out the mat and took a seat upon it. As if she were on autopilot, executing a program without knowledge of what it entailed. As if she were hoisted and moved by some unconceivable puppeteer beyond her line of sight.

As if she, Makoto Niijima, were a robot.

Her stomach lurched; it was a sensation she was becoming far too familiar with. She closed her eyes and inhaled.

_20…19…18…_

She willed herself to focus on the flow of her breath. Through her nostrils, down her throat, into her lungs. She slowly pushed the breath out through her mouth. She tried to focus on Tae's words to her and Sae near the beginning of their appointment the previous day:

_“How have you been managing with your stress this past week?”_

_“It’s been fine.”_

_Makoto watched as Tae looked between her and Sae, the soft hums of the fluorescent lights filling the air overhead. They had been sitting in silence for half a minute beforehand. Makoto was gripping the hospital bed covering. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Sae glanced in her direction._

_“I…um, used the stress plan, we made,” Makoto stammered. She could feel Sae’s attention on her, but she tried to ignore the woman. She continued to look to Tae. Makoto expected her to give a grunt of approval; a nod; any little sign that would say “Good on you for following my instructions, good on you for being what I expected you to be.”_

_“And how was that for you?”_

_Makoto’s eyes widened. “Huh?”_

_“How was it for you to use the stress plan?”_

_“It was…” Makoto started cast a glance in Sae’s direction, then averted her eyes. “It was helpful.”_

_Tae leaned forward in her chair. Makoto tentatively met her gaze._

_“I’m pleased to hear that. But I do want you to know that if it’s not helping you, we can always revise it. It’s a living document; it’s meant to grow and change with you. It won’t work if it’s just strategies made to my expectations,” Tae said. She shifted her line of sight to Makoto’s right._

_“Or ones made to your sister’s expectations. Your thoughts, Sae?” Makoto only watched as Sae responded with a single, terse nod._

Makoto let out a heavy sigh. She shook her head, pulling herself up to her knees. Tae had spoken with the sisters about managing harmful stress. Distress, she described, was like a toxin. The moment it entered the body, it would do its best to flow to every single extremity, overtaking them in a constant, agonizing usurpation.

But like a toxin, Tae had explained, there were various remedies for managing the effects. It was then that she had run through some stress management techniques with the two of them.

The first, deep breathing, was quickly proving the more futile exercise, much to Makoto’s chagrin. She reached an arm atop her bed and grabbed her phone. A few taps later, and she had a tab open, filled with various yoga poses. Makoto aimlessly scrolled through the list; picking a few, she placed her phone back on the bed.

She rose to her feet, closing her eyes and taking the mountain pose. She tried to empty her mind, yet the thought of Sae’s last words in the appointment seemed intent to anchor in place.

> _“The envy I have of her.”_

She drew her right leg back. She brought her left leg forward, bending at the knee while raising her arms above her, the crescent pose.

> _“The envy I have of her.”_

_Envy...of me?_

It didn’t add up. It didn’t make _sense_. Sae was _exceptional_. She single-handedly covered the financial costs for their father’s funeral. She sold their family home, coordinated their move to Sae’s current apartment, and obtained a coveted position at the SIU all in one shot. She even rose to prominence as a within the organization, becoming one of the most well-renowned law officials in the city, the country even, all while being a single woman under the age of 30.

No matter how Makoto tried to approach the question, the answer remained out of her grasp. She shifted her body, taking the Warrior II pose.

What was there for Sae to be envious of _her_ for? Surely it couldn’t have been related to academics. Makoto straightened her left leg out, resting her arms at 6 and 12 o’clock – the triangle pose. Much like Makoto, Sae had graduated at the top of her class – except the latter had been accepted into Waseda, while Makoto…

She shook her head, exiting the pose. She brought herself to all fours, pushing herself up so that only her palms and toes touched the mat while the rest of her body hung in the air – the plank pose. Possibly the Phantom Thieves? Makoto knew they had been thorns in Sae’s side when she had been trying to secure a promotion. Yet, Sae had been firmly on their side of justice for nearly a year now. She believed in the justice of the Thieves, for it was Makoto’s justice, and their father’s justice.

She lowered her body closer to the mat in the Low Plank pose, keeping only her palms and toes touching its surface.

_Dad…_

_Could it be because of something with Dad?_

Makoto entertained the thought. She had always known Sae to be rather aloof with their father. Whenever he would attempt to involve her in a family activity, Sae would usually decline and say she was going to focus on studying or one of her many part-time jobs.

Perhaps she was envious of the bond Makoto had with their father? That did track with the, albeit limited, information she had gleaned about sibling rivalry from her leisurely studies on child development. Yet, that dynamic typically resolved itself as the siblings in question grew up.

Makoto lowered her hips just above the ground. She shifted her feet around, letting the tops of her feet touch the mat. She straightened her arms, pushing her chest up, her shoulders pulled back and head pointed towards the ceiling – the upward dog pose.

But at the same time, Sae had a near eleven-year advantage on bonding with their father, to mention nothing of the fact that she had been able to spend time with their mother and _remember it_. Makoto considered herself lucky enough to just be able to imagine a hazy outline of the woman.

She shook her head. It just didn’t add up. If Sae was that jealous of Makoto’s connection to their father, she wouldn’t have declined invitations on their outings. She wouldn’t have made the efforts to keep Makoto enrolled in the aikido and kickboxing classes their father started her on. She wouldn’t have had their father’s notebook as her _Palace’s Treasure_.

Makoto sighed. She slowly opened her eyes. Before her, mirroring her position, was Ren, his hair somehow even more disheveled than usual. His eyes were half-lidded with his Joker smirk on full display.

“Hey, babe.”

Makoto raised an eyebrow. She blew a quick breath in his face. Ren scrunched up his nose, blinking rapidly as the breath contacted one of his eyes. He collapsed onto the carpeted floor. Makoto, smirking, pulled herself up to a standing position, looking down at him with her arms crossed.

“Hello. What are you doing?”

Ren flipped himself over on his back, smiling up at her. “Just joining your yoga class.”

Makoto chuckled. “Don’t you have a video chat to do with your therapist?”

“I did, but I finished up with Dr. Sonomura early, so I thought I’d pop in and see what you were up to.”

Makoto extended a hand to Ren. He took it, the two of them hoisting him up to his feet. Ren gave her a small smile, looking her up and down.

“I like the outfit, by the way.”

Makoto instinctively raised her hands to cover herself. She had changed into a new sports bra and yoga pants she bought alongside the mat this morning. A blush began to creep its way up her neck as Ren shot her another teasing smirk.

_Two can play it that way._

“If you enjoy it so much” Makoto said, pointing towards his shirt. She gave him a wink; one she spent many hours researching YouTube tutorials and practicing in the mirror to perfect. “It’ll cost you.”

She smiled; Ren would _never_ expect her to flirt back so directly. She would take him by surprise and _finally_ win one of their flirting bouts—

Makoto’s vision was suddenly obscured by a large swath of cloth flying in her face. She pulled it down, scowling, until she saw Ren standing before her, his bare chest exposing every muscle he earned over the last year and a half. She met his eyes; he winked.

“Consider my price paid in full.”

She groaned, bringing a hand to her beet red face. Ren laughed, gently lowering her hand and scooping her into a hug. Makoto pressed her cheek against his chest. Even though the yoga didn’t stop her thoughts about Sae, it did bring her _some_ kind of stress relief.

The couple stood like this for another few seconds, before separating. Ren reached for his shirt, only for Makoto to move her hands out of the way. She averted her eyes to the side, her cheeks reddening.

“What’s wrong, Makoto?”

"The shirt…can you…uh…." She cleared her throat, briefly making eye contact with Ren before looking to the ground.

"K-keep it off?"

Ren’s eyes widened, before he fell back into another Joker smirk. “Can you repeat that? I don’t think I caught you the first time.”

Makoto pouted as Ren wrapped an arm around her waist, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“ _Stoooooop_ it.”

“I love you too. Now come on, we should eat before I have to head back.”

* * *

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 6 TH, 2017**

**Early Evening / Makoto’s Apartment: Living Room**

**Days Until Follow-up Appointment: 6**

“So, how have things been going in the appointments with Sae-san?”

Makoto glanced up in Ren’s direction. They were seated on the couch, huddled together as the news reels played out on the TV. Their empty beef bowls sat on the table before them. There had been a segment about a young woman who was arrested on assault charges. Makoto noticed Ren’s body tense up and opted to take his hand in her own and nestle next to him. He seemed to tense up more at the contact, but quickly relaxed and rested his head atop her own.

“It’s been fine,” she answered, a little too quickly. His hand squeezed her own as he angled his gaze towards her, giving her The Look once more. Thoughts flooded her mind.

Sae chiding her for being “late” to their appointment.

Sae interrupting her to answer Tae’s questions.

The way Sae’s eyes seemed to burn a hole in her head whenever Tae asked Makoto a question, seemingly daring her to say something criticizing the woman so she could lash out at her like all the years before.

She shook her head, steadying herself.

"We haven't had a chance to discuss much about our…” Makoto paused, trying to find the right words, “communication struggles just yet. Dr. Takemi gave us some exercises for stress management, as you saw for yourself."

"Has it been stressful for you?"

"You'll have to be more specific about my stressors."

Makoto lifted herself up as she felt Ren shift beside her. Concern flooded his face. "Stressors?"

_Dammit!_

"…It's nothing."

"I mean, I've noticed things are a bit…different, around the apartment." Ren cast a look around the room. Makoto’s eyes followed his. Dishes were piled up in one end of the sink. Her purse was laid unceremoniously on the floor, its contents beginning to spill out. Textbooks from her classes were dotted around various surfaces, one of them perched precariously on the end of the table. Makoto took a moment to look to the floor. She wiped her big toe on the hardwood. A thin layer of dust caressed it.

Makoto quirked an eyebrow. "There's a certain level of situational irony in you calling me messy,” she declared, hoping the joviality she forced into her voice was just enough to distract him. Fortunately, he flashed her a smile, running a hand through his hair.

"Hey now, I think I pull off the disheveled delinquent look rather well." His smile fell. He took her hands in his own once more. “But are you sure you’re okay, Makoto?”

"Yes, I’m fine,” she lied, forcing herself to look him in the face. She couldn’t meet his eyes; she knew that if she did, she would break. She needed to shift the topic away from herself. As Ren opened his mouth, she began to speak.

“However, what about you? You've seemed rather busy between your internship and activities throughout the week. Are you taking proper care of yourself?"

"It's…” Ren began, anxiously circling his thumbs on the backs of her hands. He looked down to his lap, before meeting her gaze again. The playfulness in his eyes was dulled. “It’s fine for me too."

Makoto squeezed his hands. This was unexpected. "Ren? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, Makoto, don't worry about it."

She unlaced her left hand from his grip, raising it to caress his cheek. "Ren, I'm your partner,” she softly declared. “You can talk to me."

He offered her a small smile, raising his hand to hers on his cheek. He gently lowered it down to her lap and turned his body towards the television. Ren took his phone from his pocket, aimlessly scrolling through his calendar.

"I know, Makoto. It's just…” Ren’s eyes widened. “Shit!"

"What is it?"

"Sumire asked me if I could join her practice this Wednesday,” Ren began, pinching the bridge of his nose. He shook his head, letting his phone fall onto the couch cushion. “But I already made plans to help Ms. Kawakami tutor that afternoon."

"Can you not just reschedule with her?"

Ren grimaced. "She's…not the easiest to cancel on..." Makoto looked at him expectantly; he took a breath and exhaled.

"Sumire…” he paused for a moment before sighing. “Sumire needs a lot of support and encouragement. I've been one of the only few people who's been there for her through…everything with Maruki’s actualization. It'd crush her if I couldn't be there n—"

Makoto scooched over next to him, placing both her hands on his face and turning him to face her. She wore a grave expression.

"Ren. You are _not_ responsible for making other people happy.” She brushed a thumb over the corner of his lips.

“We've discussed this, have we not?" she whispered, gently. Ren closed his eyes but nodded. Makoto softly sighed, slowly brushing his cheek with one of her thumbs. He was always putting others before himself, regardless of the consequences he faced as a result. She glanced towards his phone on the couch. Arrays of different colored appointments filled up numerous timeslots across the upcoming week.

She considered her own schedule; although she had her essay on the Kuramoto Children due on Saturday, she did have large chunks of time open until then. It had been growing more difficult to focus as she wanted to, but if she _really_ put her mind to it, she had some vestige of hope she could get it done. The break to do gymnastics may even be the stress relief she needed.

"Keep your plans with Ms. Kawakami. I'll go to Sumire's practice in your stead."

Ren turned to her, shocked.

"Makoto, you don’t have to do that for me.”

"Ren, I've told you before: I want us to be equals. I want you to lean on me,” Makoto said, tilting her head to his phone’s calendar. “Especially when you're so stretched thin."

_Especially when you're hurting._

Ren offered a faint smile. "We can get through our problems together?"

**_Especially when I don’t want to hurt you even more with my own problems._ **

"Right," Makoto whispered. It was all she could do to keep the trepidation from slithering into her voice. 

"Thank you, Beep Boop."

She chuckled, despite herself. The trepidation slid back to the recesses of her stomach. "Anything for you, _RenRen_."

"Whatever you say, _Buchi-booboo_." He leaned forward, kissing her on the forehead.

"Why don't you go relax in the bath for a bit? I'll pick up a bit and get ready to head out by the time you’re done."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Might as well put these guns to use," Ren declared, flexing his bare arms. Makoto shook her head with a laugh and a slight blush. She started walking towards the bathroom.

"Makoto?"

She stopped, turning back towards Ren.

"Yes?"

"…Thank you. I…I really mean it," he answered. There was something in his face that looked almost… exhausted. Makoto readied herself to mention it, but Ren gave her a toothy smile, and any trace of exhaustion on his face all but vanished. She decided to let it slide.

"Of course."

* * *

As Makoto walked into the bathroom, she would not see Ren's smile slip. She would not see him run a hand through his hair with a deep sigh. She would not see him lower his mask, and the sheer exhaustion of the last few weeks of political frustrations and disappointments flood his features.

She would not see him rise from the couch, bowls in hand, towards the kitchen, laying them down into the sink. His hands would grab the sponge and soap and start cleaning through the dishes. Makoto would not see him catch himself as he found his own, shaky hand pulling a knife up from the soapy water.

She would not be subject to the familiar swell of coercive, whispered thoughts in his head urging him onwards. Reminding him of the process that had grown so routine, so automatic in those first few weeks after the interrogation. And then again, soon after he broke Maruki’s hold on his friends. After he was forced to rip the loving smile from Makoto’s face as he reminded her that her father was dead.

He ruined their happiness.

He failed to save Akechi from himself.

He was failing Yoshida.

He was letting down Sumire.

How many others was he disappointing?

How much was he failing _Makoto_ , here and now?

She would not see his other hand travel to the back of his thigh, hovering over the barely visible ghosts of scars hidden beneath his pants.

She would not see him drop the knife back into the sink, ashamed, and drag himself into the bedroom, picking up the clothing and loose articles of paper on the floor. Not see him frantically mouth the grounding mantras he practiced with Tae, and later, Dr. Sonomura.

And Makoto Niijima would not see him find a curled-up piece of paper in the corner.

She would not see him open it up, eyes widening, as he read from the first line down to the crossed-out name in red.

_Makoto Niijima: Stress Plan_

* * *

**WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 9 TH, 2017**

**Morning** **/ Protein Lovers Gym**

**Days Until Follow-up Appointment: 3**

Rain billowed from overhead. Makoto jogged down Central Street, holding her arms above her head. Her red rain jacket rustled in the wind. Normally, she would pull her jacket over the back of her head, but given her current attire underneath…

Heat crept into Makoto’s face as she ran under the awning of the gym. She lowered her arms to her side, praying no one had seen her bare midriff. She had never been to the Protein Lovers Gym; Ren described it as being relaxed, but noted that the changing rooms could often be extremely crowded and difficult to get into. Makoto looked down, sighing at the sight of her soaked yoga pants.

Coming dressed for the gym _seemed_ like a good idea when preparing at home. If only she had the additional forethought to check the weather, and not wasting it on only a few sentences towards her paper.

She shook her head. Now wasn’t the time to think about the paper or school. A chime rung overhead. Makoto watched as Sumire stuck her head out the door, eyes bright, grinning, in a red tank top and black leggings.

"Sen—” Sumire began, before her gaze locked onto Makoto. The twinkle in her eyes dulled. The smile faded.

“Makoto-senpai?”

"Hello, Sumire.”

"Where is Ren-senpai?" Makoto paused for a moment, noting the lack of the usual chipper in Sumire’s voice.

"He had a scheduling conflict. I told him that I would come in his place,” Makoto explained. She frowned at the growing confusion in Sumire’s face. “Did he not text you? He mentioned he would on Monday."

"There must be a mistake,” Sumire said, pulling her phone from her pocket. She fiddled with the screen. “I never received a--" Her eyes widened for a moment. Then, she frowned.

“Oh. It seems my phone wasn't receiving text messages,” she said, pocketing the device. She sighed. “…For the last week, apparently."

Sumire looked at Makoto again; something flickered across her face. It was too slight for Makoto to tell just what it was. Sumire smiled again, and Makoto noticed it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I suppose that I should introduce you to Coach Hiraguchi if you’ll be joining our practice. Please, follow me,” Sumire said, and waved for Makoto to follow. The girls entered through the door and made their way into the gymnastics area of the gym. Makoto unzipped her coat, hanging it over her shoulder.

The two came upon an open floor,

"There you are, Sumire,” the woman said. She scanned the room. “Where’s Amamiya?"

An awkward silence filled the air. Sumire glanced to the ground.

"He… had a scheduling conflict…” Sumire grimaced. She motioned towards Makoto. “Coach Hiraguchi, this is another of my senpai, Niijima-san. She will be taking Ren-senpai's place for the day."

Hiraguchi looked her up and down for a moment before extending her hand. Makoto took it in her own and shook. Hiraguchi’s grip was firm, strong. For a moment, she briefly imagined what it would feel like to have both the coach’s hands in her own…

Makoto mentally kicked herself as she felt heat rise along the back of her neck.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Niijima. May I ask how you're acquainted with Amamiya?"

The heat vanished. Makoto let go of Hiraguchi’s hand. She looked to Sumire, only to find the girl staring intensely at her shoes. "Oh. He's, uh, my boyfriend."

The air only grew more awkward. Sumire busied herself staring at the people on the treadmill; pointedly turning herself away from Makoto. Hiraguchi blinked, her gaze traveling from Makoto, to Sumire, to Makoto again.

"…I see." Hiraguchi replied. She narrowed her eyes, ever so slightly, in Sumire’s direction, and Makoto swore it felt as though her entire demeanor had changed.

"Sumire. Given this is Niijima's first outing with us, I'd like to revise today's training to be more applicable to you both. Keep in mind, these exercises will still be applicable to your routine, so I expect your best efforts."

Sumire snapped out of her daze. She turned to Hiraguchi and nodded. "Yes, Coach!"

Hiraguchi returned the gesture. “Please escort Niijima onto the floor. I’ll be with you both shortly.”

Hiraguchi walked off towards a door – Makoto assumed it was likely her office. She turned again to Sumire; the girl’s eyes were on her. Again, she noticed something flicker across Sumire’s face. It almost looked…

Resentful.

"Sumi—"

"Follow me, if you will, Makoto-senpai,” Sumire interrupted, brushing past her to walk down the hall. Makoto stood still, staring at her back, before falling into step behind her.

* * *

**WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 9 TH, 2017**

**Afternoon / Protein Lovers Gym**

**Days Until Follow-up Appointment: 3**

As Makoto leaned against the wall, her joints seemed to release a single, harmonious chorus of aches. She brought a hand to her forehead, wiping away a pool of sweat for the fifth time today. Or was it the sixth?

Another chorus of aches from her joints, and she didn’t care anymore. She made a mental note to schedule herself visits to her apartment’s gym complex as Sumire entered the hallway. She, too, had a fresh sheen of sweat on her brow. Makoto watched Sumire settle beside her, observing the way girl’s gaze lingered on the door. 

Makoto never really spoke to Sumire one-on-one. Outside of Ren, none of the Thieves did. Although she was always cordial, and more than willing to assist them in their fight against Maruki and the protests Ren’s imprisonment, it seemed as though she constantly floated just outside of the group.

She was close enough to know the inner workings of their dynamic, but never be part of them.

> _“I am to understand this discussion is related to an event prior to my joining, yes? Is it…okay, for me to be a participant to this? I do not wish to make this uncomfortable for the group, or you, Makoto-senpai.”_

Makoto inhaled, sharply. She cycled through her masks once again.

“Sumire,” she began, settling on _Makoto: The Friend Maker_. “Thank you for allowing me to participate today. It was very gracious of you.”

Sumire’s gaze found her own. For a split second, Makoto saw it again. That increasingly familiar flicker of resentment and anger cross the girl’s face. And again, as soon as it came, it vanished. She nodded.

“Of course. You did well, Makoto-senpai. For a beginner, that is,” Sumire replied. She glanced back towards the door, disappointment crossing her face. “Even Coach Hiraguchi seemed…unusually impressed.”

A beat passed.

“I’m only glad I had you and Hiraguchi-san to guide me,” Makoto said, stretching her arms. Various joints cracked along the way. “I think I may be rustier than I’d expected. My apologies if I wasn’t able to give my all today.”

Sumire’s expression shifted; it was somewhere between a grimace and a smile.

“Well, yes, it’s to be expected for a beginner, after all. To excel at gymnastics, it’s required that you give you best efforts any time you step onto the floor.”

“It must take quite the discipline to do correctly.”

Sumire nodded. “If I wish to excel, I have to have the utmost discipline. It was what Kasumi expected of herself.” She clenched her fists. “And I know that’s what she and coach expect of me as well.”

Makoto took a breath, readying herself to inquire further when the door to the gym opened. Coach Hiraguchi entered, walking up to the pair.

"Well done on your performance today."

Sumire smiled. "Thank you, Co--"

"I was referring to Niijima, Sumire."

"Huh?"

"I'll provide your feedback—"

"No!"

Makoto jumped a bit. Hiraguchi narrowed her eyes. Sumire quickly drew a hand to her mouth, before lowering it back to her side.

"M-my apologies, Coach Hiraguchi. But I don't understand. What was wrong with my performance today?"

"Remember back when you first started coming to practice with Amamiya?" She waited for Sumire to nod. "You told me that you were trying to be yourself out there."

"Yes…"

"When I looked out there today, you weren't being you,” Hiraguchi said, motioning her head in Makoto’s direction. “You were trying to be Niijima."

Makoto’s gaze wandered to Sumire. The girl’s eyes were wide.

"Her aggressive fighting style, the flips – you were just emulating all of it after a certain point."

"B-but you were giving her praise,” Sumire stammered, pointedly looking away from Makoto. “I thought you wanted—"

"Wanted to assure her she was doing well for a _beginner_ ,” Hiraguchi interrupted. She placed a hand on her hip. “You're _not_ a beginner, Sumire. If you're going to win on an international stage, you need to embody who _you_ are on that floor."

Hiraguchi sighed, closing her eyes. "You need to stop hiding behind what you think other people _want_ you to be."

Silence. Makoto noticed Sumire begin to shake in place. Her heart ached in her chest. She turned towards Sumire, voice gentle as she spoke.

"Sumire…"

The girl whipped around, meeting her eyes for the first time. Once again, Makoto saw the expression that had been so fleeting. The hints of resentment and anger were on full display in a snarl. "Don't _lecture_ me! You'll _never_ understand what it feels like not to measure up!"

"Sumire, I—”

Sumire jabbed a finger at her chest. “Would you just _listen_ to me?! You’re no better than _Kasumi_!”

Silence.

Tears filled her eyes. Sumire turned and ran for the locker rooms. Makoto started to follow her, until she felt Hiraguchi’s hand on her shoulder.

"Niijima, let her go."

"But—"

"She needs time for herself."

Hiraguchi let her hand fall. Makoto, confused, turned to face her.

"Pardon any disrespect, Hiraguchi-san, but she's your student. She looks up to you, and she needs you right now."

"Does she need me, Niijima? Or does she simply want my approval?"

"What?"

Hiraguchi motioned to an office with her hand. “Follow me.”

Makoto acquiesced. The pair entered the office space. A stand of weights laid near the walls. A standing desk sat near the middle, a portable treadmill right underneath it. Hiraguchi walked over to a pair of medicine balls on the ground. Makoto took the other one, struggling to find the right balance of comfort and balance. Hiraguchi looked on, clearly amused.

“Having trouble, Niijima?”

“No,” Makoto replied, nearly rolling over onto the floor. She had her hands out and feet planted firmly on the ground. “I’m comfortable. Thank you for your concern, Hiraguchi-san.”

Hiraguchi chuckled, and Makoto tried to ignore how melodic it was to her ears.

“Hiraguchi-san, you asked if Sumire needed you, or simply wanted your approval. What did you mean by that?”

“How much do you know about her family?”

“...She lost her sister in an accident, a year and a half ago,” Makoto replied, sullen. She thought back to the video of Sumire’s counseling session in Maruki’s Palace. She couldn’t forget the distant, despondent look on the redhead’s face as she struggled to give voice to her grief.

Hiraguchi nodded. “Kasumi was a great inspiration to her. Unfortunately, that also came with a great deal of envy on Sumire’s part.”

_“The difficult feelings…the…envy I have of her.”_

“Envy…” Makoto muttered, Sae’s words clawing at the back of her mind.

"What about you, Niijima?”

“Hmm?

"You’re related to that former prosecutor, are you not? Sae Niijima, I believe.”

The room fell silent for a few moments. Makoto rapped her fingers against the medicine ball. “Yes. She’s my older sister.”

“I’ve noticed she’s been all over the news for most of the year. For her to be so prolific…it has to be hard on you.”

Thoughts sprang to mind. The nights in a row where Sae wouldn’t come home. The nights where Sae _would_ come home, and immediately launch into criticisms of Makoto’s cleaning, cooking, academic performance – every little thing she tried to do to ease the burden on Sae.

_Not any harder than the last four years of this._

“I’ll admit, it has been easier in the past, but it’s nothing that her and I haven’t been able to handle.”

Hiraguchi narrowed her eyes. “Is it something that you choose to handle, or is it _expected_ that you handle it?”

“…What do you mean?”

“It can be difficult, having siblings…” Hiraguchi trailed off, glancing down for a moment. She brought her attention back to Makoto. “I see it often in the families I coach. When one sibling excels, the other is expected to perform at the exact same level.”

Makoto thought back to Kobayakawa’s incessant comparisons of her and Sae. She thought about all the things Sae demanded of her, all for the sake of a future _Sae_ wanted her to bear.

“They get held to a pedestal of someone else’s making, only to be crushed when others are disappointed in them for not matching up to the expectations set by someone else.” Hiraguchi sighed. “This sibling watches the other receive attention, admiration, encouragement, and that’s where the envy begins.”

“Are you saying that’s what Sumire is experiencing?”

Hiraguchi nodded, solemnly. “Kasumi had a raw talent and boldness to her that immediately impressed. When she took to the floor, people all around would stop and notice her.”

“And Sumire would go unnoticed…” Makoto muttered. _Had Sis felt the same? Did she think Dad ignored her in spending time with me?_

“She’d try to emulate Kasumi’s performance, only to ignore the talents she did have,” Hiraguchi continued. “Sumire became so caught up in trying to be just like her sister, that she never noticed what Kasumi truly wanted.”

Makoto felt as though a rock sank in her stomach. She gripped her knees.

“What she wanted…”

Hiraguchi’s eyes met hers.

“It sounds like you understand, Niijima.”

And Makoto did.

She had understood the feeling from the moment she got home the night after the first infiltration of Kaneshiro’s Palace. In the haunting rays of moonlight, huddled beneath her blankets, she whispered her worst fears into her phone. The nonchalant, emotionless reply of the MetaNav confirmed all the things she knew, but never wanted to acknowledge:

> _“Result found.”_

“She wanted her to be by her side,” Makoto whispered. “She…I…just wanted Sis to be by my side.”

Hiraguchi didn’t reply. Makoto sat there, every emotion between the moment she discovered Sae’s Palace to infiltrating it washing over her in an instant. The fear. The sadness. The loneliness. The anger.

Had Kasumi felt the same for Sumire? Had she also sat at the dinner table, only finding glares where she wished to find love? Had she, too, walked behind her sister in the mornings, knowing that by being herself, by working towards her passions, that she was inching ever closer to inevitable conflict?

Had she, too, been too afraid to approach her sister, to ask for the love she knew she may never receive?

Had Kasumi, too, grown to hate the way Sumire treated her?

_Did she worry…that she may come to hate her sister, too?_

Makoto didn’t know.

But she knew what she could do.

She rose from the medicine ball. Her eyes were hardened.

“My apologies for taking up your time, Hiraguchi-san. But you’ll understand if I wish to speak to Sumire now.”

Hiraguchi nodded. “Very well.”

As Makoto began to exit the door, Hiraguchi’s voice rang behind her.

“Niijima.”

“Yes?”

“I hope Sumire is able to give you the answer you’re looking for… with your own sister.”

Makoto muttered, in a voice only she could hear.

“I hope so, too.”

* * *

**WEDENESDAY, AUGUST 9 TH, 2017**

**Afternoon / Protein Lovers Gym – Locker Room**

**Days Until Follow-up Appointment: 3**

Makoto wandered the surprisingly empty halls in search of the locker room. Her footsteps echoed with each step forward, but the sound didn’t reach her. All she could hear were Sae’s and Hiraguchi’s words.

> _“The difficult feelings…the…envy I have of her.”_
> 
> _“This sibling watches the other receive attention, admiration, encouragement… and that’s where the envy begins.”_

By the time she realized Sae was caught in the throes of envy, her sister was already too far self-destructive, and their relationship had not recovered. Makoto clenched her fists; it may never recover.

Sumire already lost Kasumi and nearly lost herself. Makoto couldn’t let her lose herself once more. She couldn’t watch someone else’s sister, too, fall before they own envy.

She _wouldn’t_ let someone else just become another Sae.

Makoto came upon the entrance to the locker room, a faint voice barely audible within. She pushed the doors open, and found Sumire seated on an empty bench. All around her, gray and red lockers sprawled out across the wall. Sumire had her head cradled in her hands, slowly shaking it side to side.

"I'm so worthless. I swore to myself that I would make Ren-senpai and Kasumi proud, and I'm already struggling with mere _practice_ for the international circuit." She sighed, a sharp clang reverberating across the room as her foot hit the lockers.

"This is supposed to be the future _I_ chose for myself. I'm supposed to be the best version of myself! And yet…I…"

Makoto took a breath and stepped forward. “Sumire?”

The girl spun around on the bench, holding her hands in front of her like a shield. "Ah! Makoto-senpai! I-I didn't hear you come in. My apologies."

"It's fine, I can just come back later,” Makoto replied, taking a step out of the room.

"No, no, please!” Sumire called out, holding a hand towards Makoto’s direction. “Don't leave for my sake."

“If…it’s okay, would you mind if I sat down?”

Sumire blinked. “Y-yes, you may.” She scooted over, making room for Makoto to sit in the space beside her. The pair sat in silence, both seemingly lost in their own thoughts. Makoto thought of speaking, but all the words seemed to die the moment they hit her tongue.

She felt like a fool. How did she expect to help Sumire, when she couldn’t have even helped her own sister before her distortions sprouted into a full-blown Palace? She sighed; ruminating was getting her nowhere. If she wanted to be there for Sumire, she needed to say something, anything. Makoto turned to face Sumire, only to find the redhead standing next to her, bowing.

"I…also wish to apologize not just for that, but for my unwarranted outburst earlier as well,” Sumire said, somehow bowing even deeper. “It was unfair to you, especially when you had taken time out of your schedule to assist me when Ren-senpai could not."

"Don't worry, it's okay Sumire,” Makoto replied. Sumire lifted herself from her bow, plopping back down on the bench. She grimaced.

"It's…really not. I've kept this inside ever since joining you all, and today finally brought it out to the forefront."

"What do you—"

"I wish to be completely honest with you, Makoto-senpai: I greatly dislike you."

Makoto’s mouth hung open. She looked for any hint of playfulness in Sumire’s face. All she found was a dark look in her eyes, and the frigid expression that glowered beneath them.

"Huh?"

"Not only have you won the heart of Ren-senpai, you have a group of trusted friends who rely on and look up to you. Your academic performance at Shujin was second to none. Your physical prowess is near on par with my own."

Sumire laughed, bitterly. "When you let me stay in that call about what occurred in Mementos, I was secretly excited. It was a chance to _finally_ see Makoto-senpai mess up at something."

"But then, they all forgave you. Brushed it aside like it had never happened. Your friends were there for you, even after you _hurt_ them."

Makoto winced at the emphasis. Sumire continued, holding her arms around herself. “You were even able to save your sister, in spite of everything she may have felt towards you…” Sumire’s voice crack as she spoke. “In spite of everything _you_ may have felt towards _her_.”

Sumire let out a soft, dark chuckle. "You're so _lucky_ , Makoto-senpai."

"Luck has nothing to do with it.”

Makoto’s hands balled into fists on her lap.

"Do you want to know what things were like between Ren and I, the group and I, before I joined?" She waited for Sumire to nod.

"I strong armed them with a task I had been burdened with because I was unable… _unwilling_ , to stick up for myself. Ryuji mistrusted me, Ann hated me, Yusuke thought I was a hindrance. And Ren...he thought I was _pitiable_."

"But in time, that changed, because I realized that _I_ needed to change." Makoto took a deep breath. She allowed her fists to unfurl and settle on her lap. She turned back to Sumire before continuing.

"For so long, I was subservient to the wishes and desires of the authority figures around me. I was like a robot, programmed to merely do what I was told and hope they'd approve of my work enough that I could succeed. But then I saw the gaps in that thinking,” she said, counting off on her fingers. “which A principal who tasked a high schooler with solving extortion and criminal activities. A faculty that turned a blind eye to physical abuse and sexual assault. A school sacrificed the dreams of students for the sake of its own reputations. It _sickened_ me."

Makoto shook her head. "I made the choice to try to change because I remembered my justice, the same one my father believed in.”

She smiled, closing her eyes at the thought. Whereas she couldn’t picture her mother, just the mention of her father would bring the memories to the forefront of her mind. “Whenever he’d get ready for work in the morning, he’d tell me he was trying to make the world just a little bit better before he came back home.” She opened her eyes, the smile still on her face. “My justice is born of my father's convictions, my experiences, my sense of self. And I would be damned if I ever let anyone decide that for me ever again."

Makoto was surprised when Sumire frowned at her.

"That’s _exactly_ what I mean. You know exactly what you stand for. You're so similar to Kasumi in that regard. Every time I look at you, I can't help but to see all of her best traits, ones that I _never_ had, will never _have_."

She turned back towards the lockers, sighing. "I vowed to myself, to Senpai, that I would live as Sumire. That I would carry on in the reality that I chose for myself. I was so confident in the beginning. Senpai would be right off to the side there, cheering for me when no one else was. His eyes were focused just on me. But then he went away. I had less and less time to visit Kasumi's grave to tell her how I've been doing."

She drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them.

"Each time I get closer to the success she dreamed of; it slips right though my fingertips. Like I’m failing her wishes. Sometimes…I truly do wonder if maybe Dr. Maruki was right…"

Makoto stood, her hand flying out and slamming against the lockers. Sumire jumped to her feet in shock.

There were many aspects of herself that Makoto Niijima held little faith in these days.

Her social skills.

Her ability to be the right kind of friend, the right kind of partner.

Her current academic trajectory in college.

The shrinking hope that she and Sae would ever reconcile.

Yet, there was one part of her that could no longer be in doubt. Something so ingrained in the very fabric of her being that it burned a white-hot iron one faithful day and whispered so softly in her ear, "Have you decided to tread the path of strife?"

The justice her father gave his life for. The one she claimed as her own.

Unbeknownst to Makoto, when her gaze turned back to Sumire, the gymnast wasn't met with the uncertainty, the doubt, that filled Makoto's eyes.

She was met with confidence. Assuredness.

These were Queen's eyes.

"Pardon my language, Sumire, but that's bullshit, and you know it."

Sumire’s eyes widened. "What?"

Makoto’s narrowed in return. "The sense of fulfillment Dr. Maruki wished to bring to the world is understandable -- perhaps even admirable. Yet, thinking about that experience, I can't help but consider that he overlooked an important detail that would have made the reality he strived for doomed from the start."

"What do you mean?"

"Sumire, you went through my sister's…” Makoto said, finding the word stuck on her tongue. “… _Palace_. You undoubtedly saw what was on display there."

Sumire nodded. "Yes. A casino where the results were rigged from the start and justice was decided by the victors."

"As a prosecutor, my sister was thrust into a lion's den. Constantly passed over for promotions, forced to do work outside and well below her expertise, and probably even more than I know of. All because the people, the men, in positions of power saw her competency as a threat they needed to cut down."

Makoto walked around the other side of the bench; hands held behind her back much like she would during meetings in Palace Safe Rooms. "Even outside of that specific career path, we've seen this story manifest elsewhere. Suguru Kamoshida. Junya Kaneshiro. Ichiryusai Madarame. Kunikazu Okumura. Masayoshi Shido. All of these men with delusions of grandeur, with desires so out of control they've hurt and maimed countless innocents in their attempted ascents to glory."

"But Dr. Maruki would have never allowed people like that to have their desires granted!"

"I'm sure Dr. Maruki would have tried his best. Yet, what of the systems that allowed for their desires to swell to such a nefarious extent in the first place? Ones that granted them everything they asked for without consideration at the cost."

"I don't believe I follow…" Sumire replied, watching as Makoto came to a stop. She folded her arms against her chest and noticed Sumire take a step back.

"We live in a society, a world, governed by patriarchal forces. Ones that inherently, consistently, value the desires of men over our own. People like those men, they had their desires granted: fame, social status, monetary gain. Yet, they still wanted more."

Makoto held out a hand in front of her, counting on her fingers as she spoke.

"Kamoshida satiated his lust on our student body. Madarame stole the labor of the youth in his care until he dumped them to the streets with nary a penny to their name. Kaneshiro consumed the social and financial futures of students. President Okumura was even willing to trade the lives of his workers for the smallest margin of profit."

Anger swelled in her stomach as she remembered the sight of Haru being thrown towards trashcans in the alley. Of Sugimura’s sneer and saunter from the scene.

_Even his own daughter as a sexual favor just to have some chance of victory in the political sphere._

Makoto grit her teeth. "These men saw the line on the ground and willfully crossed it, each and every time, because they were rewarded by the structures around them for doing so."

“But Makoto-senp—"

"Have you ever been told about the events in Shido's Palace, Sumire?"

"No…"

"Joker was left to stand against him in a forced one-on-one duel. It was there that he gloated at the chance to kill him. But he also shared that, in that moment, his desire to steer this country had finally come to fruition.” Makoto’s expression grew darker. “And yet, his ambitions had only 'just begun.'"

"Consider it, Sumire: global acts of terror utilizing the Metaverse. Other countries, other people, living under the constant threat and fear of psychotic breakdowns, mental shutdowns. The consequences would have been catastrophic."

Makoto shook her head. "Dr. Maruki was wrong because he failed to account for the fact that, for men like these, so ingratiated in socioeconomic systems that rewards them for upholding it, with each desire granted, they would only be left wanting more, and more, and more."

"But he knew not to pardon Shido or the rest of those criminals—"

"That the Phantom Thieves brought to light?”

Makoto’s eyes narrowed in response to Sumire’s glare. “The ones that had been hiding in plain sight, protected by the very systems that allowed them to prey on the vulnerable."

"Are you insinuating then that the Phantom Thieves are the only solution?” Sumire asked, irritation building in her voice. “That people can't stand against harm unless someone else does it for them?"

"Makoto-senpai, while the Phantom Thieves provided great acts of service for those in need, do you not worry that society would have just relied on them as a safety net and stopped making a conscious effort for change?"

She glared. "People cannot grow if they overly rely on others."

"How can people grow if they're being actively hindered by the social structures around them?"

Sumire tensed at the question. Makoto continued forward, stepping closer to the bench with each question.

"Is 'growth' what would have happened for Shiho Suzui after Kamoshida raped her? Would she have ‘improved herself’ by asking for help from the very faculty that turned a blind eye to their peer's abuses?"

She stopped just short of Sumire’s face. Her gaze burrowed into Sumire’s own. "I will agree with the point that the Phantom Thieves were not a long-term solution. It was an organization that found itself entrapped by society, forced into action because the systems supposed to help the downtrodden -- schools, communities, the police, the government, -- all failed to protect the innocent who needed those structures most."

"The changes of heart deplatformed abusers and saved lives in the immediate sense. What they did not do, _could not do_ , is change the material conditions afflicting the people at society’s mercy. Dr. Maruki had the power to change this, and he _chose_ not to."

Makoto clenched her fists at her side. She felt sorry for Maruki. She really, truly did. If she had lost Ren the same way he had lost Rumi…devastation couldn’t even begin to describe the weight of that loss. And yet, she wouldn’t run from it, like Maruki had.

She would face it, and all of her other problems.

**_Just like Queen could do._ **

She brought her attention back to Sumire. "So focused was he on suffering as this grand ill that humanity needed to overcome, that Dr. Maruki took it upon himself to try to define what our happiness should be.”

Makoto frowned. “In a way, he may have been no different than Shido; just another powerful man trying to force his will on people he believed didn’t ‘know any better.’ He may have sought to create a utopia, but all it takes for utopia to crumble is a single man who believes his desires outweigh the rights of those around him."

Makoto took a moment to catch her breath. She watched Sumire silently take a seat with her back turned. Makoto’s expression softened; the swell in her chest faded down to baseline. Had Sumire been looking at her now, she would have seen the vestages of Queen slowly peel away, leaving an exhausted, trepid Makoto in her wake.

Makoto took a seat opposite Sumire, their backs turned to each other. A minute passed; the only sound in the room their breaths and the rhythmic tick-tock of the clock in the corner.

"This,” Sumire finally muttered, frustration quaking in her voice, “is exactly what I was referring to."

Makoto carefully turned her head, still met with the sight of Sumire’s back.

"I declared to so many people that I'm different from the Sumire that ran away from her problems. But here I am, arguing for a world where someone else snaps their fingers and makes all my problems go away!"

Sumire’s turned her body towards her; tears dripped down her face.

"I’m yelling at you, and you're just trying to help me regardless. You handle _everything_ , Makoto-senpai. So masterfully, so gracefully, and I can handle _nothing_. I keep telling myself that I shouldn't need anyone, but I'm…worthless without someone else's approval."

Makoto swung herself around the bench so that she found herself seated next to Sumire. She placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder.

"I'm just a walking hypocrite, am I not? I deride the Phantom Thieves' actions yet threw myself into living life as Kasumi at the first chance. I said people shouldn't rely on others to change themselves, while at the exact same time, wishing for the attention of my dead sister and a friend I want more with."

She sniffled. "I just want someone to notice me as _me_. I just want to be loved. I really am a failure." Sumire gasped as Makoto drew her into a hug. Makoto patted her back.

“Makoto-senpai…?”

Makoto closed her eyes, her hold on Sumire tightening.

“Just let it out, Sumire.”

Makoto braced herself as Sumire’s sobs rang out in the empty room.

* * *

“Makoto-senpai?”

“Yes?”

"All this time I thought I didn't like you, but I've just been…jealous, of who you are."

Makoto turned to look at Sumire. They had parted from their embrace a few minutes ago. They sat next to each other, silent except for Sumire’s fading sniffles.

Makoto took a breath. She tried in vain to push all thoughts of Sae and envy to the back of her mind. “Jealous?”

“You’re so compassionate and resolved to your justice.” She chuckled, “You remind me of Kasumi in that regard. “

Sumire turned her head towards the ceiling. “She was always so sure of herself and bold in her performances. The minute she’d step out onto the mat, it was like everything in the world would stand still just for her. She was so determined. I looked up to her, I wanted to be her.”

She looked to Makoto for a moment, before staring down at her feet. “After Dr. Maruki’s Actualization on me broke, I came to practice with Ren-senpai one day. Do you know what Coach Hiraguchi shared with me?”

Makoto shook her head.

“She said that Kasumi saw me as her rival. She said I had such a delicate and graceful style, and that she couldn’t afford to lose to me. And all I’ve done was waste that time I could have spent with her.”

“No, you haven’t.”

Makoto was surprised at the confidence in her voice. Sumire had turned her head up, staring at her.

“I…I may not have known your sister. And I cannot speak to the history you both share. But when I think about my sister and the…struggles,” Makoto said, trying to mask the hurt that rose in her voice, “I can only think about one thing: how much I wanted her by my side.”

Makoto turned to face the other girl. “Sumire, listen to me. Being able to rely on others isn't weakness; it's _strength_. People are social creatures. We thrive when we're surrounded by others who push and pull us forward."

"At the same time though, you can't stake everything on one person and hope they'll always be there. It wasn't just Ren for me. It was Ann, Ryuji, Morgana, Yusuke, Futaba, Haru…being with them opened my world up more and more. Even you’ve helped me, Sumire."

Sumire bawked. "Me?"

"I look at you and see someone who's so forward with her love and admiration. Someone dedicated to trying to find out how she wants to live her life, after having that choice taken from her."

"Makoto-senpai…"

"You may not have had the chance to reconcile with Kasumi the way you wanted. You may feel like you have so few people who can be by your side. You may not even consider yourself a member of our group, but we -- Ren, me, and all of us, do care about you, and want to get to know you better."

Makoto held out a hand. She offered a smile.

"The road to the top doesn't have to be lonely if you don't want it to be. We’ll all be by your side if you allow us."

Sumire’s eyes watered as she looked between Makoto and her outstretched hand. To Makoto’s surprise, Sumire got to her feet, walking over to a locker on the other side of the bench. She opened it, searching through a bag of what seemed to be spare clothing. 

"Sumire?"

"Makoto-senpai,” she said, still going through the contents. “In that gym out there, when I finally felt confident about my routine, Coach Hiraguchi and Ren-senpai both said that they could see my feelings while watching me.”

Makoto spun herself around on the bench. Sumire grabbed something from the bag, keeping it in front of her. She kept her back to Makoto.

“When I go out there again, I want to show the world how I feel. Not just for Kasumi, Coach, or Senpai…but for me as well. I want others to see the real me. …And this shall be the proof of my resolve."

Sumire turned around, chucking something Makoto’s way. Alarm bells sounded in her mind. Her hand shot out in the air, grabbing it a few centimeters from her face. Makoto pulled it down to get a better look.

"A gymnast's slipper?" It was a tattered pink color. The laces had uneven rips across both ends. There was a hole in the bottom of the sole, and what appeared to be skid marks across the top.

“It belongs to a pair Kasumi had with her the day she…” Sumire trailed off, before shaking her head.

"Do you recall how our Personas were based on figures of legend and myth?” She waited for Makoto to nod. “Cendrillion was based on a young woman, stifled by her position in her family. One day, she came to meet a Fairy Godmother, who granted her wish to attend a ball. Over time, she came to reciprocate feelings for a prince she would dance with. Eventually, she dropped her glass slipper, and waited until the prince found her.”

Sumire looked to the other shoe, her lips drawn into a sad smile. “He saved her."

Makoto glanced to the ground. "…Was Ren this prince for you?"

"I wanted him to be. Everything felt right with Ren-senpai by my side. Whenever I’m next to him, I feel like I can do anything, be anything. I can go beyond my thoughts of Kasumi and of you. But now, I'm starting to understand something that I think yourself and Kasumi both knew…"

Sumire walked over towards Makoto, stopping just an arm’s reach shy of her.

"My future, my ambitions…I can't chase them by myself. And I can't persist on waiting for Coach, Senpai, and even Kasumi's approval. It's my own approval of myself that matters most, and surrounding myself with those who encourage me."

"One day, when I achieve my dream, I want you to be there. With Senpai, with your… _our_ friends. And when that day comes, I wish to retake that slipper. That's a promise, Sen—no.”

Sumire extended her hand. She smiled. “That’s a promise, _Makoto_."

Makoto returned the smile, taking her hand in her own.

"It’s a promise, Sumire."

* * *

**WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 9 TH, 2017**

**Early Evening / Shibuya Central Street**

**Days Until Follow-up Appointment: 3**

"Niijima."

Makoto swiveled on her heel at the voice behind her. Hiraguchi stood leaning against a pillar, her rain jacket zipped up just beneath her neckline.

"Coach Hiraguchi?"

"You did a good job in there."

"Thank you,” Makoto grinned, “but I'm not quite sure I see gymnastics in my future."

Hiraguchi shook her head, smiling. She walked up to Makoto, smiling. "I was referring to Sumire."

"Oh. Well, I didn’t really do much.”

"I disagree. Here,” Hiraguchi said, jerking her head down Central Street towards Station Square. “Allow me to walk you to the station."

Makoto blinked. She urged herself to focus on answering. She would _not_ let her jaw drop at the thought of walking with Hiraguchi in front of the woman herself. Ren would already tease her about the not so subtle crush. He’d have a field day if she mentioned she sat there slack-jawed to boot.

"What about Sumire's practice?"

Hiraguchi started walking ahead, lazily raising a hand. "She doesn’t need my approval for her routine."

Makoto glanced at the gym, and then at Hiraguchi’s back. Nodding to herself, she jogged up to the coach, until both were walking in step, side-by-side. The crowded streets bustled with conversation as the two walked towards the station in silence. Makoto found herself sneaking glances at Hiraguchi, hoping the woman would start a conversation, or make a comment, or anything to fill the void of conversation.

As they started to pass by a bench beside an ice cream stand, Makoto stopped.

"About Sumire,” she said, puzzled. “What exactly were you referring to?"

Hiraguchi paused for a moment. She took a seat on the bench. "When I left the office, she was in there practicing her routine. It's different. There's the usual passion she and her sister would go about it with, but something else. A vigor, a purpose I haven't seen since your boyfriend first helped her start the path to nationals."

"For the better part of a year, she’d been trying to emulate Kasumi. Once she embraced being herself again, her personality started showing through her performances. But it was always for someone else. Kasumi. Amamiya. Me. Never to express herself for herself."

"I don't see what that has to do with anything I did."

"I overheard your conversation in the changing room."

Alarm bells rang in Makoto’s mind. "…How much of it did you hear?"

"Enough to say with certainty that your sister should be proud to have you as her family."

Makoto only stared as Hiraguchi continued. "Niijima, you have an incredibly compassionate and just spirit. You have more conviction in your justice than most adults carry to their graves. That conviction was necessary for Sumire to witness for herself."

"…You intentionally went out of your way to compliment me," Makoto said, eyes widening in realization. "All of it to make her confront me. Why?"

She gulped, waiting for Hiraguchi's answer. The coach merely smiled, and raised her head to the clouded skies above.

"What, Niijima, is a life worth living, if it's all done in service of pleasing somebody else?" Hiraguchi lowered her attention back to Makoto, a serious expression on her face.

"If Sumire wants to reach the top of the gymnastics world…if she wants to be able to live as free as you all struggled for, it can’t be done just to please the people she loves. She has to live for herself, too."`

The words tumbled around Makoto’s mind.

_Live for herself…_

Makoto raised a hand to her face. Where she once found ironclad resolve, she was only greeted with the same, malleable flesh that gave into the whims of authority figures. Of her sister.

The same flesh that continued to struggle, in spite of everything she and her friends achieved, to find new purpose.

"What if, in the process… she discovers that the best version of herself is already gone?” Makoto asked, eyes trailing from Hiraguchi to the ground. “What if there's a chance she may never find her purpose?"

Hiraguchi’s expression softened. "There's always that chance. Yet, we must move forward all the same. What would've happened to our country if the Phantom Thieves found a chance they may not have succeeded, and gave up along the way?"

Hiraguchi pushed herself to her feet, stuffing her hands in her jacket pockets.

"I've seen people who've given up on their dreams. How easily they become another cog in the machine, hoping to get approval from a system that doesn't value them.” Her expression darkened. “Will never value her."

"…I don't believe we're talking about the same person, Hiraguchi-san."

Hiraguchi smirked. "Have we for the last few minutes?"

"You’re correct in that assumption, Niijima. My older sister, Kana Hiraguchi, has been working as a professor of law at Waseda University the last 15 years. She had ambitions of one day becoming Prime Minister."

“She did?”

"Yes. But, as you can see, those dreams never came to fruition. She poured so much of herself into trying to get attention from the ‘right’ people above her, that by the time she gave up that dream, she'd given up the rest of herself, too."

A familiar pain twisted in Makoto’s heart.

An image flashed in her mind’s; rusted, bloodied armor. Flayed, silver hair. A rusted sword, and a helmet with piercing, golden eyes.

Makoto found her mouth extremely dry. “I’m…sorry to hear that.”

“I was too. Things were never really the same between us after that. The only time we’ve shared more than pleasantries the last few years was when…” Hiraguchi trailed off. Makoto looked to her, confused.

“When…?”

Hiraguchi smiled. “It’s irrelevant now.”

She placed her hands onto Makoto’s shoulders. “But what I want you to take from Kana and I, from Kasumi and Sumire, is this: don’t wait to tell your sister how you truly feel, and what you truly need from her.”

“Hiraguchi-san…”

“Niijima, I don’t know you, or your story, or your sister. But if you need things to change…if you want them to change, you have to tell her things she may not want to hear.” Hiraguchi’s hold tightened. “That she may be _afraid_ to hear, from you.”

Makoto stared ahead. Past Hiraguchi. Past the station, past everything. Her mind raced with everything she needed to tell Sae. Every piece of abandonment, every bit of despair, every ripple of anger that rocketed through her body when Sae uttered that single, _fucking_ word that hung like a specter over every moment between them: _useless_.

Somehow, Makoto found it in her to ground herself. Back to the station. Back before the curious stare of Hiraguchi. She nodded.

“I…think I understand.”

Hiraguchi smiled, dropping her hands from Makoto’s shoulders.

“Your life is worth more than being what anyone else expects you to be for them. Including your sister.”

Makoto gave a faint smile. Tears stung at the corner of her eyes. “Right.”

Hiraguchi reached into her pocket again, pulling out her phone. “I should get back to the gym. Sumire may have her routine ready, but we still have the other parts of our practice to get to.” She held out her hand. “It was a pleasure, Niijima.” They shook hands, smiling at one another.

“Thank you, Hiraguchi-san. …For everything,” Makoto replied. She let go of Hiraguchi’s hand, and slowly began to make her way towards the stairs. She stopped, turning back around.

“Hiraguchi-san?”

“Yes, Niijima?”

“About what you told me regarding your sister…perhaps it would be helpful if you told Sumire that as well. I think it would help her, to know you understand too.”

For a brief second, she saw Hiraguchi’s eyes widen. Just as quickly, she closed them, smiling to herself.

“Perhaps so.”

Makoto cast one, final look at the Station Square, before heading down the stairs. In the background, she could hear Hiraguchi’s voice:

“Ice cream for two, please.”

As Makoto sat on the train, watching the sun burn bright against the horizon. Her phone buzzed multiple times in succession.

* * *

> **Chat Name: Lavenza’s Laboratory**
> 
> **Hello, senpai! I was wondering, if any one of you are free later tonight, would you like to join me for a movie? There was a recent remake of Beauty and the Bass, and I was hoping to see it before it left theaters.**
> 
> **Sure thing, Sumire.**
> 
> **: My sincerest apologies, Ren-senpai, but I was actually hoping for someone else in the group this time!**
> 
> **Wow, I didn’t take you for a musical buff, Sumire.**
> 
> **: Musicals have always been an interest of mine! It’s somewhat embarrassing, but I would often re-enact the Phoenix Featherman musical special with my father…**
> 
> **YOU WATCH FEATHERMAN???? （＊〇□〇）……！**
> 
> **Uploaded file _:[ryujiFORREALrecording236.mp3](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NV6phwZxvBU)_**
> 
> **Of course! I record them to watch after practice. Pink Argus has always been a favorite of mine.**
> 
> **Hm? What is this about?**   
>    
>  **Shoosh, Inari! This conversation is for intellectuals only!**
> 
> **Why I never!**
> 
> **Okay Sumire, here’s the deal. I’ll watch that movie with you, iffffff you join me for a Featherman marathon this weekend!**
> 
> **I’m flattered, but I promised Coach Hiraguchi I would review my routine …**
> 
> **I have the musical special in 8K... (*´ω｀)o**
> 
> **😲**
> 
> **Absolutely! I look forward to tonight and this weekend, Futaba-senpai!**
> 
> **…Can you say that again?**
> 
> **Um. Futaba-senpai?**
> 
> **_Ehehehehehehe_ **
> 
> **Sumire, I think you may have created a monster.**

* * *

> **I take it the practice went well?**
> 
> **Better than I would have thought.**
> 
> **Thanks again, Makoto.**
> 
> **Of course, Ren. We’re partners. We should be able to rely on each other.**
> 
> **Hey.**
> 
> **Yes?**
> 
> **Is…is everything okay?**
> 
> **Yes, of course. Did something happen?**
> 
> **No, I just.**
> 
> **I worry, y’know?**
> 
> **Ren…**
> 
> **How about we spend time together Tuesday? Just the two of us.**
> 
> **But what about your work with Yoshida-san?**
> 
> **It’ll be fine. He’s been trying to get me to take a day off anyway.**
> 
> **Plus, it’ll give me the time to spoil you with a beautifully planned date.**
> 
> **Ren, the last “beautifully planned” date you crafted ended with the front of Leblanc smelling like singed rubber.**
> 
> **“Beautifully planned minus the pyrotechnics," then.**
> 
> **Pretend I’ve attached an eye-rolling emoji here.**
> 
> **I love you, Makoto. I really, really do.**
> 
> **I love you too? What’s with this all of a sudden?**
> 
> **I just…you, with Sae-san and everything...**
> 
> **Ren, it will be fine. I have a feeling that Sis and I are close to finally resolving this.**
> 
> **Are you sure?**
> 
> **Positive. I’m hopeful I’ll have happy news on that front when I see you this weekend.**
> 
> **I love you, Renren.**
> 
> **I love you too, Buchi-booboo.**
> 
> **P.S. I look forward to hearing all about how you stared at Hiraguchi’s butt all practice. 😉**
> 
> **I was not looking at her butt! Her hands are the more impressive feature.**
> 
> **Wait. DAMMIT.**
> 
> **< 3**

* * *

Makoto buried her blushing face in her hands for a solid minute. When she pulled away, she had a smile on her face. A genuine one, for the first time in what felt like weeks.

She looked out to the sunset once again, Hiraguchi’s words playing back to her repeatedly:

> _“_ _But if you need things to change…if you want them to change, you have to tell her things she may not want to hear.”_

She looked out to the sunset again, steeling her resolve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I PROMISE I DO ACTUALLY LIKE SUMIRE


	12. At the Heart of Envy, Part II: Sae

**MONDAY, AUGUST 7 TH, 2017**

**Afternoon / Tokyo Juvenile Correctional Facility**

**Days Until Follow-up Appointment: 5**

Long ago, Sae promised herself not to think of her father.

It started simple enough. Leave all the pictures with him locked in storage. Throw his old belongings into a donation bin. Attempt to let his face blur in with those of the criminals she could punish for their crimes and pretend that he was made to own up for what he did. That he hadn’t been stolen away before he could make things right.

But could he have really made it right by her?

Sae did not know.

She tried to act as though she didn’t care.

She tried not to think of her father, but as she continued to meet with her client, the memories she tried to bury only rolled over her in waves. Hearing the young tattooed girl recount stories of her father’s alcoholism, his fists slamming into walls, doors, people; all of it was a cruel deja vu that threatened to send her crashing back to being that young, 8 year old girl crying behind her bedroom door as her mother, gasped and pleaded over the sickening cracks of her father’s hand across her face.

Or being the 13-year-old girl that sat by her mother’s bedside in the hospital, tearfully watching each painful, torturous gasp her mother took in for even the slightest chance of breath.

Sae tried to ignore it, and root herself in the present to be there for her client. To be the unmoving, unyielding presence she had come to command to raise and protect Makoto.

But had she really protected Makoto?

Sae looked to her client again, watching as she recounted a story about her family. The brown hair. The nervousness in her eyes. The way she fiddled with her hands at the table. All of these were so familiar, so strikingly reminiscent of Makoto. Sae thought of how the girl across from her at this table was abandoned, left to fend for herself when someone who was supposed to support her only hurt her.

Somewhere, deep in her heart, some part of Sae wondered if Makoto felt the same.

After an hour, their first meeting of the week ended, and the client rose from her seat. The door to the room opened; prison guards marched in, preparing to take her back to her cell. What Sae didn’t expect was the man in a dark suit that sauntered in in front of them, his sneer as sickening as ever.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Niijima.”

“Inspector,” Sae replied.

Kutsuki grinned.

“Oho, so you _can_ show respect to your elders.” His gaze traveled to the client. He jerked his head. The prison guards grabbed her arms, forcing them behind her back. The girl winced as handcuffs were tightened against her wrists.

“Take her to her cell,” Kutsuki ordered, smirking. “Don’t want to leave the trash out for long.”

The girl attempted to lunge forward, restrained by the guards. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to, you goddamn _pig_!”

Her bugged out of her head as Kutsuki brought his fist into her chest. She doubled over into the guards’ arms, wheezing. Kutsuki brought his arm back to his side.

“Inspector Kutsuki!” Sae demanded, slamming her hand on the table. She rose from her seat, glaring.

“I will _not_ sit here and allow you to brutalize my client.”

Kutsuki scowled. “Well then, what are you going to do about it?”

“Excuse me?”

“Men,” Kustuki said, looking between the two guards. “Since Ms. Niijima _clearly_ missed it, give me a situation report.”

“The prisoner, Akari Kurusu, attempted to lunge at senior officer Inspector Tadashi Kutsuki,” the first guard replied.

The second nodded his head. “Inspector Kutsuki was forced to subdue the prisoner out of fear for the safety of himself, his subordinates…” the second guard paused, before looking to Kutsuki, and then Sae.

“…And defense lawyer, Sae Niijima.”

Sae’s eyes widened. “This is outrageous! You would lie so flagrantly in front of an attorney of the law?!” She watched as Kutsuki shrugged, and he marched up to the table. He slammed his own hand down; Sae didn’t flinch. He matched the scowl growing on her face with his own.

He snapped his fingers. The guards grabbed Akari and took her out the door.

“Let me make this as clear as possible, Niijima. The law, the truth, is decided by a group of people. If that group says something is true, especially with my reputation, it becomes such.” Kutsuki gave her a wicked grin. “So then, which version of the ‘truth’ will the police believe? Me and my officers, loyal members of the prefecture, or…”

Kutsuki jerked his head in Sae’s direction. “A little _girl_ in over her head, that abandoned the prefecture and her father’s legacy?” Kutsuki only laughed as a vein became visible on Sae’s forehead.

“It’s almost sad. Even if Isao-san got soft by the end, he at least learned to play the damn game before going against his brothers-in-arms.”

“ _Don’t_ talk to me about my—” Sae was cut-off by the buzz of her phone. Kutsuki shook his head, backing away from the table.

“Go ahead, don’t mind me,” he waved dismissively. Sae checked the Caller ID: it was Yasuko.

Sae brought the phone to her ear. “Hello—”

“Hey, can we actually meet sooner this week?”

Sae opened her mouth to reply when Yasuko interrupted. “ _Please._ ”

“Is everything alright, Yasuko?” Sae noted the pressure in the other woman’s voice. The quickness of her delivery. Something had her nervous.

“Yes, I just…” Yasuko paused for a moment. “I just can't do Friday again”

Sae took a breath, trying to ignore Kutsuki’s presence. “Okay. I should have Wednesday afternoon free. I just have an appointment beforehand.”

“Yeah…” she trailed off, as if checking her schedule, “yeah, Wednesday afternoon works.”

“Although, I'm not quite sure what time Crossroads opens during the day.”

“Actually,” Yasuko answered, “I was thinking we could go somewhere else.”

Another pause. “ _Anywhere_ else.”

“Yasuko.”

“Sae… _please_.”

Sae heaved out a sigh. “…Fine. Where would you like to meet?”

“Let's meet at Inokashira Park.”

“What about the curse?” Sae asked. Yasuko’s giggles tickled her ear.

“I thought you didn't believe in the occult!”

“I don't. I just assumed you would be likely to believe that type of nonsense.”

“Uh-huh,” Yasuko replied. Her laugh was like music to Sae. “How did you find out about the curse, anyhow?”

“I'll tell you at the park.”

“It's a date then!”

Sae heard shuffling on the phone for a moment, before Yasuko hurriedly spoke.

“I-I mean, a set date for our plans! For us to meet. Yeah!”

“Understood.”

Yasuko bode her farewell, and Sae ended the call. Her expression darkened at the sound of a snort, finding Kutsuki still standing across the table from her.

“Friend of yours, Niijima?”

Sae glared, choosing not to respond. She gathered her bag and walked around the table, past Kutsuki, for the exit.

As Sae exited the room, Kutsuki frowned. He stroked his chin in thought.

* * *

**WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 9 TH, 2017**

**Morning** **/ Inokashira Park**

**Days Until Follow-up Appointment: 3**

The rain drizzled as Sae walked through the entrance of the park. She kept her umbrella up, blocking the stray droplets of water sliding down the branches of the endless entangled trees overhead. There was an uncomfortable slosh in her shoes with each clack of her heels against the ground. She grimaced as her right foot splashed in an especially deep puddle. She knew she should have changed shoes ahead of time.

Sae spotted a bench nearby, rushing over to take a seat. She opened her purse and began to fish for her spare pair of shoes. Her thoughts, however, drifted to the conversation with Yasuko on Monday.

The nervousness. The vague explanations. The mysteries.

The nervousness alone didn’t raise suspicions. A woman walking alone in Shinjuku? In the SIU Building? Nervousness was logical. It made sense.

But then there were the vague explanations behind it. The “group” she supposedly met with in Shinjuku, a questionable crime den her father had abandoned her and Makoto to try to clean up. To say nothing of the seeming randomness of the people she was acquainted with.

And then there were the mysteries with nary an explanation. What exactly did she do in the Diet? Who had she worked for? Who was she currently working for?

There had to be a link Sae was missing.

The nervousness. The vagueness. The mysteries.

Her thoughts rattled around her mind like dice.

Was Yasuko seeking protection of some kind? It would explain her presence at the SIU, but did nothing to explain Shinjuku.

The dice rattled again. Could Yasuko have been involved in some sort of yakuza group in Shinjuku? Yet, that wouldn’t explain the warmth Lala Escargot, Angel, and Julian had all showed to Yasuko, and to Sae herself. And if they were, would they have not already made a move against Yasuko for going to the SIU weeks prior?

Sae cursed under her breath.

She knew there was something deeper. That an answer sat dangling right between her fingertips, she wouldn’t let it slide away. A familiar electricity coursed through her veins.

She just needed to approach this like she would one of her old cases. Every word, every look, every interaction, all pieces of a puzzle she just needed to put together. All of it a game with a clear winner.

She just had to hedge her bets right.

She just had to win again; _needed_ , to win again.

Sae took her usual calculation pose: right elbow in left hand, and right index finger rested against her chin.

The nervousness. The vagueness. The mysteries.

Yasuko had been nervous in both the SIU and the moments they came across people she knew in Crossroads. She kept vague about her connections, and her work connections remained a mystery to Sae herself…

To herself, specifically. Someone who Yasuko had confided in, who she’d bonded with over the acts of aggression they’ve experienced in the workplace. Someone who Yasuko vowed to be open with. What could Yasuko want to keep from her?

As she thought back to that first night, Sae remembered the fortune-teller, Mifune, and her connection to Amamiya and the Phantom Thieves.

_The Phantom Thieves…!_

The dice rolled. Of course, there was no _definitive_ proof. She was sure she had identified the major players in Shido’s conspiracy. Yet, there was always a chance there were some that slid under the radar. That there were some who knew Sae was connected to the Phantom Thieves, who knew that Sae kept to herself, and didn’t dare allow anyone in.

Until a woman from her past stepped into her life.

Until she seemed to understand all the things Sae felt alone in.

Until she brought her out to a near empty park.

The dice stopped as Sae, out of the corner of her eye, saw a familiar head of curly, shoulder length dark hair strolling towards her. Soon enough, Yasuko, dressed in black pants and a green rainjacket, stood above her. Sae slowly stood, hoping the growing sense of dread didn’t reflect in her face. She met Yasuko’s eyes, and only observed as the woman quickly plastered a half-smile on her face.

It only accentuated the dark circles beneath her eyes.

"Hey."

"Hello, Yasuko,” Sae said, coolly.

Silence. Sae stood, unflinching. Yasuko’s eyes wandered around the area. She wrapped her arms around herself, as if trying to keep herself together. Despite the alarm coursing through her thoughts, Sae spoke.

"Is…everything okay, Yasuko?"

"…Let's not talk here."

A beat passed.

"But I thought you wished to meet here."

"Yes, but we should go someplace in the park where no one can overhear us…" Yasuko said, jerking her head towards the pond. Sae’s allowed her gaze to tentatively follow; a series of swan shaped boats sat docked in the pier. She raised an eyebrow.

"Aren't those boats usually used for couples?"

Yasuko blinked once. And then again.

"I, uh, yes, well…l-let's just go!"

Yasuko took hold of one of her hands, dragging her towards the boats.

As she walked along, Sae couldn’t help but feel as though she stepped right into the spider’s parlor.

* * *

**WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 9 TH, 2017**

**Afternoon / Inokashira Park – Pond**

**Days Until Follow-up Appointment: 3**

The only sound between the two was the rocking of the swan shaped boat along the rain-fueled waves of the pond. Sae had taken off her suit jacket, leaving her in the sleeveless black turtleneck she’d grown to favor in recent years. She kept it in her lap, hiding the hand gripping her pocketknife.

She noticed Yasuko’s face redden somewhat. Allergies, perhaps?

"You seem relaxed."

The words were devoid of any emotion as they left Sae’s lips. Yasuko looked to Sae, a faint smile on her face.

"Would you believe me if I told you it’s the first time since Friday?"

"Yasuko, what exactly is going on?"

Sae waited for Yasuko to say something. Anything. She remained silent. Sae continued, increasingly agitated.

"You appear in the SIU building alone in the evening. You have connections to several people in a Shinjuku bar, and seem to be part of some group of an undisclosed nature. Pardon my suspicions, but I believe you would agree that these circumstances don't exactly paint you in a flattering light."

"I…" Yasuko sighed. "Do you remember how I said I hadn't gotten into prosecutorial work?"

Sae gave a cautious nod.

"It wasn't for a lack of trying. My parents died a few months after our graduation from Waseda. After I passed the bar and finished the apprenticeship, I kept applying for position after position, but no one would hire me."

"They said I didn't have the _spine_ to be a prosecutor and uphold the ‘court's justice,’” Yasuko spat, rolling her eyes. “They wanted me to just It got so bad I found myself staring at my bank account, watching it slowly drip away out of my control."

"Is that how you ended up as an assistant at the Diet?"

"Yeah. It was the only place that would accept me. I knew I was overqualified, but rather that than be on the streets."

"It started off nice; I was bounced around the office until they could find a permanent spot, so I didn't have to spend too much time interacting with some of the less…moral, politicians."

"But that's when I ended up being placed with…" Yasuko trailed off, looking away from Sae towards the pond. Sae continued to watch the woman.

Dice shook in her mind. Yasuko's sudden reappearance in her life directly after putting the finishing touches on the charges for Shido's conspiracy network. The shady connections in Shinjuku. Her increasing discomfort in speaking about her past.

A knot, constantly twirling ever since she stepped foot into the park, finally settled in Sae’s stomach. All of these seeming coincidences happening one after the other. All of them leading to her sitting like a duck in a duck shaped boat. The irony would be humorous, if the threat to her life weren’t so real. Carefully, Sae gripped the pocketknife.

If she were to be drowned today, she’d damn well make sure she wouldn’t be the only corpse in the water.

The dice finally fell.

Sae cleared her throat, gaining Yasuko's attention. Her knuckles whitened against the knife as she spoke.

"Being placed…with Masayoshi Shido?"

Yasuko's eyes widened for a moment, before she gave a dark chuckle. She had a distant look in her eyes.

"Fortunately, no. Another woman I worked with, Izumi, had been chosen to be his assistant. And…well, I’m sure everyone in the country's heard her testimony on that experience."

Images rushed to Sae’s mind. Makoto calling a woman in a small town on the outskirts of Mikage-cho. The very same woman showing up to the court, weeks later, giving an account of an encounter with a drunken Shido, and a very in-over-his-head Amamiya.

Sae shook her head, withdrawing her hand from the knife as casually as she could. Her heart still hammered in her chest. "But if you weren't an assistant to Shido, which politician had you been working with?"

Yasuko took a deep breath.

She met Sae's eyes.

"I used to work for Representative Jin Sugimura. And I had been dating his son, Rin Sugimura, for the last two years."

* * *

"We first met when his father had been yelling at me in his office one day. It happened often enough that I was just used to it, y'know? Next thing I know, this well-dressed brunette storms in and starts yelling back at him for being ‘too damn loud.’

Yasuko chuckled bitterly. “In hindsight, it was clearly a tantrum, but in the moment…"

"In the moment, it felt like someone _really_ cared about me. I never really had friends, growing up. And with how cutthroat our program was, most of them just saw each other, and us, as enemies."

Sae nodded. She hadn’t cared about the other people in her program; she had just considered them background noise between her and her eventual career. But getting to know Yasuko, and hearing how she described them…

_Perhaps I’ve never been much better…_

She shook herself from her thoughts, tuning back into Yasuko as she continued.

"After he intervened, I thanked him. He asked me to dinner, and one night led to another, and another, until we were dating."

“That seems rather quick for a relationship.” _Not that I would know._

Yasuko laughed; Sae noticed the smile didn’t reach her eyes. "Hindsight’s always 20-20, right?” She sighed, letting her shoulders droop. “He was so sweet at the beginning, Sae. The flowers, the voicemails…”

Yasuko sighed. “About a few months into things, I moved in with him. I thought I finally found someone I could spend my life with. That I wouldn't have to be alone anymore."

Sae frowned. "But then it changed."

She nodded. "He started pressuring me to sleep with him. And I…” Yasuko said, trailing off. Her hands shook as she took a breath. “I don't have an interest in sex. At all. Never have, and probably never will. I declined him whenever he'd ask. And each time, I was always afraid he would…"

Yasuko fell silent. But the implication hung in the air like the rain clouds overhead.

"It got to the point where he'd be monitoring every little thing I do. I'd want to go out to a concert, and he'd say that I should stay in. That I would be around all these 'younger, sexier girls' when I'm bland, fat, ugly. He'd keep laying on all these criticisms, telling me if only I wasn't so stupid, so unsophisticated, maybe I could have been something important."

"One day, early in the spring last year, he came home drunk with lipstick all over his neck. I was pissed. I yelled at him, telling him he was just a no-good, cheating scumbag, and then…”

Tears started streaming down her face. Her voice cracked as she spoke “He hit me."

She placed a shaky hand over her stomach. "Right here. And then again, and again. The minute I hit the floor, he started kicking me in the chest. I…I thought I was going to die."

Yasuko wrapped her arms around herself, the boat slowly rocking along with her.

"He threatened as much the next morning. I'll never forget the way he said it.” She deepened her voice as she spoke next. Although it was still distinctly Yasuko’s, the certainty, and the venom within it only brought reminders of her father.

“'If you even _think_ about saying anything, I'll _fucking_ _kill you_.'"

Yasuko chest rose and fell faster and faster as she continued to speak. "I was a mess after that. The air seemed too thin to breathe, I jumped at every little thing I saw out of the corner of my eye, nothing seemed _safe_ , I wasn’t _safe_ Sae…"

To her own surprise, Sae drew Yasuko into a tight embrace. She felt the other woman sob into her shoulder. "Hey, hey. Shh, it's okay.”

The memory that’s become so routine these last few weeks came back to her. Sae, an 8-year old girl, carefully pushing open the door after her father’s footsteps faded down the stairs. Her, a child, finding her mother on the ground, blood trickling down a bruised jaw. Sae, scared and afraid, walking over to her mother, hugging her, whispering “Mommy I’m here, Mommy I’m _here_.”

And here she was, twenty-one years later, whispering the same reassurance: “I’m _here_.” She waited for Yasuko to settle in her arms. Yasuko pulled away, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket. Her gaze flickered between Sae’s face and her own, trembling hands.

"I snuck away one night, while he was out again. I just needed to be out of there. I ended up stumbling into Crossroads and breaking down at the bar."

"That's how I met Lala-chan. She stayed with me for most of that night and introduced me to Angel & Julian."

"The couple we saw on Friday?"

"Yes. They help facilitate a group with Lala-chan, every Tuesday night, for survivors of domestic abuse.”

“…I was scared, Sae. Every time I left to go to the meeting, I felt like I would turn around and Rin would be right there, ready to swing. Ready to kill me."

"But he kept staying out more and more. It was always hard, by the time I got to the group, to be able to say anything without being a shaking mess. But the other people in the group told me they felt that same fear, and they would share that weight with me."

"Over time, I started opening up, little by little. They laughed with me, cried with me. I finally felt like I belonged somewhere. Felt like I didn't have to walk on eggshells for someone's approval. They were with me because they wanted to support me."

"I worked with them to make plans to leave Rin and move into another apartment, far away from his. It was…terrifying. I kept thinking of all the things that could go wrong, and the memories of that night, lying there on the floor, kept playing back in my mind."

"Eventually, November hit, and the plan was underway. Lala, Julian, and Angel coordinated some mutual friends of theirs to help me move my stuff. They even got a couple of their really tough friends to help protect me in case he showed up."

Sae "…Did he?"

Yasuko lowered her head, her hair obscuring her face. "Yes. I fell to the ground shaking the moment I saw him. One of the people guarding me, Mayuzumi-san, walked right up to him, asking if he was planning to pick a fight. Do you know what he did?"

Sae shook her head.

"He _laughed_ , right in her face. Like it was just some fucking _game_ to him. He said that I didn't matter anymore, that he's found someone 'way hotter and way richer' than I could hope to be."

"Afterwards, I heard rumors that he had gotten engaged to a high schooler, but I couldn't verify that for myself. The thought of a child having to marry him…I just hope those rumors weren't true."

"I hope so too."

"But what did you do when it came to work? Surely his father would have…?"

"Thankfully, the election and the Phantom Thieves took care of that."

"What do you mean?"

"By the time I left Rin, the Diet Building was in a tizzy with the election season. Between the Phantom Thieves story, Shido's United Future Party gaining traction, and the surprising performance of Toranosuke Yoshida, everything in the building was chaos."

"I didn't see either of the Sugimuras for a good while at that point. Especially with how things later went down with Shido, as, again, I'm sure you're aware."

"You said…for a good while,” Sae repeated. “Does this have to do with why you wished to not meet at Crossroads?"

"…February 4th of this year,” Yasuko muttered, brushing a hand through her hair. “I'm not sure what it was, but the weight of my parents' deaths just…doubled over me. Like, I had _just_ lost them again for whatever reason."

"Grief is a complicated process."

"I guess…" Yasuko said. "That night, Rin had called me. He was telling me a bunch of nonsense about how he actually really loved me, how he ached every moment of the day I wasn't beside him, that I was the only one for him…"

Yasuko reached for Sae’s hand, holding it tight, as fresh tears and snot rolled down her face.

"And I bought it all up! I went to dinner with him, just for him to get me shitfaced. He brought me back to his apartment and tried to sleep with me. Somehow, I still managed to refuse, but that didn’t stop him from…"

Fresh beads of tears dropped from her eyes to the bottom of the boat. “From…”

Sae drew her into another tight hug. She rubbed Yasuko’s back as the woman let a wail escape into her shoulder. She didn’t want Yasuko to have to finish the sentence.

An anger she hadn’t felt in months burned in her chest like venom. If Yasuko finished that sentence, if she ever saw Rin Sugimura in the streets, all bets would be off.

She snapped back to attention as Yasuko pulled back. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her voice raw. "I took a sick week off work. I packed the clothes up in a vacuum sealed bag. I even went to a back-alley doctor to get a write up on the extent of the injuries I got."

Sae’s eyes widened. "So then, your visit to the Special Investigations Unit…"

She gave a grave nod. "…Was me bringing it all in, to open a case against him."

Confusion suddenly settled into Sae’s face. “But shouldn’t the police be in charge of such cases?”

“That’s what I thought as well. But one of the officers told me to meet with someone over in the SIU Building. I…don’t remember his name,” Yasuko added quickly. Sae closed her mouth, nodding.

“I’m not terribly surprised, you were going through…a lot.”

Sae allowed for the words to hang in the air. She didn’t want to press too hard. She made an effort to change the subject.

"What about the group at Crossroads?"

Yasuko looked to the side. "I can't go back to them."

"What do you mean?"

"Sae, I went back to Rin, knowing full well what he could have done to me. What he did to me. All of them did so much to help, and I just turned around and spat on all of it!” Yasuko shouted. “It was bad enough seeing Lala, but Angel and Julian too…"

She placed her head in her hands, exhaling. "I can't go back. They would hate me."

“Yasuko, listen to me.”

“You were undergoing extreme stress from a chaotic workplace, on top of your own grief. If…if I were in your position, what would you say to me?”

Yasuko’s eyes widened for a moment. She squeezed Sae’s hand and took a breath.

“I…would say that there are any number of reasons people stay in or go back to abusive relationships. That there’s so much manipulation, and fear, and shame…”

Sae leaned in, placing her free hand on top of Yasuko’s. “Then should you not give yourself the same compassion?”

“You’re…you’re right,” Yasuko sighed. “It’s just…so hard. I feel like I should have done more for myself.”

“I…understand what you mean,” Sae whispered. Her heart hammered in her chest. Yasuko gently squeezed her hand.

“Sae, what are you—”

“My mother,” Sae said, closing her eyes. She took a deep breath. And another. The walls she so perfectly built up around herself lowered, inch by frightening inch. “When I was younger, before Makoto was born, my father…”

* * *

**WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 9 TH, 2017**

**Evening / Inokashira Park – Entrance**

**Days Until Follow-up Appointment: 3**

Sae couldn’t bear to look at the horror etched on Yasuko’s face as she finished her story. She looked out over the pond; its pristine surface was muddied by the reflection of the storm clouds passing by overhead.

It was strange. It felt like she was aware of her surroundings, yet existing just outside of her body. The smells of the pond, the ache of her bottom against the wooden seat – all of it seemed to be a world away from her. As if she were bearing witness to the falling slope of her shoulders, the rawness in her throat, and the reddening of her eyes from someone else’s vantage.

And just as suddenly, she felt a jolt of electricity rocket from her hand throughout her body, and suddenly she was crashing back down into herself. There was a warmth – one of Yasuko’s hands enveloping one of her own. Sae felt a strange sensation near her eyes. She raised her free hand to the the edge of one of her eyes. She swore she could feel something wet, but nothing fell.

Then again, of course it didn’t. Even after all this time, she was still out of tears.

Yasuko’s grip tightened. “Does…does your sister know about this?”

“…No. She’s never known.”

“Sae…”

Sae pinched the bridge of her nose with her free hand. Her throat felt raw. Everything felt raw, and open, and exposed.

“After our mother died, he became a different man. He actually acted like a father, and that’s the only version of him she’s ever known.”

Sae shook her head. “Makoto idolizes him. He’s her hero.”

“But you’re her sister,” Yasuko said, firmly. “You said you were both doing therapy, right?”

Sae nodded.

“Then how can you expect her to understand you, if you keep parts of yourself hidden away from her?”

“I…can’t be one to say you shouldn’t feel ashamed of the things that happen to you,” Yasuko said, voice barely audible. She leaned in closer to Sae, grabbing both her hands in the process. “But you shouldn’t have to bear this alone. Your sister is going to therapy with you, because she wants you to be there for each other, together.”

She leaned even closer. Sae’s eyes couldn’t help but notice how close their faces were to one another. “Yasuko…”

“Sae, you don’t have to carry this weight alone. Misato wants to be there for you. … _I_ want to be there for you.”

Sae found herself leaning in as Yasuko did the same, as If planets swept into the same gravitational pull. They came closer, and closer, until Sae’s brain finally processed Yasuko’s last sentence.

“Don’t you mean ‘Makoto?’”

Their noses were touching. Yasuko’s eyes widened, and she pulled back. The pull was broken, and disappointment fluttered within Sae’s chest. Yasuko slapped a hand on her forehead, sighing.

“Ughhhhh, mom and dad always told me I was bad with names, but this is just _ridiculous_.”

A sound escaped Sae’s throat. Yasuko looked to her in concern, before the sound grew into laughter. Yasuko smiled, joining in, their combined laughter echoed across the empty pond.

* * *

The paddle back was largely uneventful. Sae grabbed Yasuko’s hand, helping her from the boat. Time seemed to slow as their eyes met one another’s. Sae could feel Yasuko’s pulse beat against her hand; it matched her own.

Both seemed to snap from their thoughts at the same moment, dropping their hold all at once.

“Sae, I…want to thank you,” Yasuko said, gently brushing a bang out of her face.

“I haven’t talked to someone about Rin ever since…”

Sae shook her head.

“You don’t have to mention it. In any case, it’s me who should be thanking you for being there for me.”

Yasuko wrapped her arms around Sae’s neck, drawing her into a hug. “Of course. We’ll carry each other’s weight, yeah?”

Sae leaned into the hug. “Yes.”

The two separated, hearing a whistle from behind them. Sae’s eyebrows shot up.

“You? What are you doing here?”

Kutsuki, dressed in shorts and a tank-top, stood in front of her. A fresh sheen of sweat coat his face.

“Exercising, Niijima. What else’d you expect?” he droned. His eyes traveled to Yasuko. “You never told me you had a girlfriend.”

“My personal time is frankly none of your business, _officer_.”

Kutsuki’s eyes narrowed. “It can come into question if that effects your case, _prosecutor_.”

The two stood, glowering at each other, until Yasuko nudged Sae’s arm.

“Why don’t we call it for a day? I’m feeling pretty wiped, and I’m sure you probably are too.”

Sae’s features softened. “…Yes. You’re right.”

“How about we make a plan to meet here next Saturday evening. We could have a picnic!”

Sae closed her eyes, smirking. “very well.”

Yasuko smiled, and bowed to Kutsuki. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Officer…?”

Kutsuki rolled his eyes. “Inspector.”

Sae glared in his direction. Yasuko squeezed her hand, beaming at her. “Goodbye, Sae.”

“Goodbye, Yasuko.”

Sae watched her walk back out of the entrance, any trace of fear from earlier in the day dissipated. Sae turned back to Kutsuki, tilting her head as she found him staring in Yasuko’s direction.

“Interesting friend you’ve got there, Niijima.”

Sae simply scoffed, pulling on her jacket, and walking past him with no further words.

As her visage disappeared into the distance, Kutsuki pulled out his cellphone. He pulled up a picture, chuckling to himself. He dialed a number, and brought the phone to his ear.

“This is Inspector Kutsuki, with the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department. I have an update on the missing person’s report you’ve filed...”

He looked back down at the picture.

A woman with raven hair and green eyes.

An uneasy smile on her face.

And a suited, brunette man with his arms wrapped around her.


	13. At the Heart of Envy, Part III: Family History

**SATURDAY, AUGUST 12 TH, 2017**

**Afternoon / Takemi Medical Clinic**

If she were to describe how she usually felt sitting in the clinic room, Makoto would describe it as “tense.” She would have talked about how it felt like everything was closing in around her, how eye contact with Sae made her feel like she would pop like a balloon.

Today was different. There was an energy in the room she couldn’t quite name. As though the tension in the air was pushing away from her. She opened her eyes, bringing her focus to Tae. The doctor had risen from her seat, wheeling in a white board from the spare room in the back.

“Now that we’ve talked about your goals around being closer, I was hoping we could dive into talking about how you communicate.”

“Our communication?” Sae asked.

“Mhm,” Tae said, sitting back in her seat. She fished a set of dry-erase markers from her desk. “Every family has its own ways of communicating – some good, and others harmful. For me to better understand how to help you to change your communication to something that works better for you both, I’d like to know how your family communicates.”

“Um, that doesn’t explain the whiteboard,” Makoto pointed out.

Tae winked. “One intervention at a time, Makoto.”

“I fail to see what intervention you’re referring to now,” Sae replied, crossing her arms.

“Well, before we get to the larger intervention, I want to take a moment to set some ground rules for how we’ll be talking today, and for our next few appointments. Is that okay with you both?” Tae waited for both women to nod.

“Excellent.” Tae turned to the whiteboard, uncapping one of the markers and writing in the upper right corner. The sisters watched in silence until Tae sat back down.

Sae read the board, tilting her head. “’I’ statements?”

“Yes. To give a summary, it’s a way of communicating your feelings to another person without the risk of sounding accusatory or attributing those feelings to another person.”

“So, in essence,” Makoto said, slowly nodding, “it’s a method of speaking to someone else in a way that doesn’t provoke a defensive response.”

“Bingo.”

“Very well. I suppose I’d be open to trying this,” Sae said. Makoto noticed Sae’s tentative gaze rest on her. “If…that is okay with Makoto, that is.”

“Sis…O-of course it’s okay with me.”

Makoto couldn’t help but match Sae’s smile with one of her own.

“Since it seems you’re both in agreement,” Tae said, turning back to her desk. She gave the sisters a handout with an example of a “blaming” statement, followed by an “I” statement.

“Notice how the ‘I’ statement opens with the feeling you’re experiencing. It’s important to clearly state the emotion, and

Makoto looked to Sae, feeling as though her heart hammered in her throat.

> _“_ _But if you need things to change…if you want them to change, you have to tell her things she may not want to hear.”_
> 
> _“Your life is worth more than being what anyone else expects you to be for them. Including your sister.”_

She swallowed the fear. “Sis…I felt…hurt, last year, when you said you would be eating dinner out from then on,” she said slowly, closing her eyes. “I appreciated those dinners together, because I didn’t get to see you often, and I worried about you.”

She poked one eye open, and then the other. She was greeted by the surprised face of Sae.

“Makoto…”

“Sae,” Tae called. “You seem surprised. What’s going through your mind after hearing Makoto say that?”

“I…was not aware she felt this way.” Sae stared at Makoto a few seconds longer. She couldn’t tell what, but something was…off in Sae’s expression. Almost as if the confidence Makoto had long known her sister to hold had been shifted off axis, replaced by something foreign. Something new.

Almost as if Sae was _nervous_.

“Sae,” Tae called, and the sisters broke their eye contact. “Why don’t you try now with Makoto?”

“Makoto, I feel…” Sae said, closing her eyes in search of words. Makoto sat in wait; she could feel a bead of sweat start to drip down her forehead. A few seconds passed, and Sae opened her eyes, smiling.

“Makoto, I feel amused when you still cling to that Buchimaru plush I got you for your eighth birthday.”

Heat rose to Makoto’s face. “S-Sis!” She looked to Tae. “I thought these were supposed to be serious, Dr. Takemi.”

“Affection can be just as serious as discontent, Makoto,” Tae teased.

She rolld her eyes, Sae chuckling beside her. Tae shook her head, amused. "Since it seems you both understand that part, I'd like to transition to our main intervention for the day." She reached into her drawer, pulling out a dry erase marker. "Today, we'll be doing what's called a genogram."

Makoto raised an eyebrow. "What's a genogram?"

“Think of it as a kind of family tree. But instead of simply showing who’s in your family, it helps to show how a family interacts.”

On the board, Tae drew two circles connected by a line overhead. She wrote “Sae Niijima” and “Makoto Niijima” next to each. “When were you both born?”

“April 23rd, 1998.”

“November 17th, 1987.”

Tae whistled. “Almost at the dirty 30s now, huh?” She and Makoto chuckled as Sae fell into a glare.

After her laughter died down, Tae turned back to the board. “Now, why don’t you tell me about your parents.”

Makoto nodded. “Our father was named Isao Niijima. He was born October 28th, 1960 and he,” Makoto paused, frowning. “He died March 28th, 2013 in a motor vehicle accident while on duty.”

Tae swiveled her seat around to face the sisters. There was a dour expression on her face. “I’m sorry to hear that. He sounds like a brave man.”

Makoto waited for Sae to say something; her sister remained silent. “He was,” Makoto finally whispered. A silence crept into the air. It hung around Makoto, until Sae’s voice cut through it like a knife.

“Our mother’s name was Chihiro Morikawa. She was born July 26th, 1960…and died March 15th, 2000.”

Makoto, to her own surprise, spoke. “How…how did Mom die, Sis?” She was surprised. Sae never spoke of their mother. Neither had their father, beyond the occasional comparisons he’d draw between her and Makoto.

Sae glanced at her. And then away. “It was respiratory failure. She had been diagnosed with COPD before you were born.”

“When we’ve gotten the genogram together,” Tae began, facing Sae, “would you like to start with talking about her?”

“No. No, that’s okay,” Sae muttered, and then she was silent again. Tae’s gaze lingered for a moment, before swiveling her chair back to the whiteboard. She added in their parents on the line directly above them.

“Were your parents married?”

Sae and Makoto uttered “yes;” Makoto immediately, Sae after a beat of hesitation. Tae drew a solid line underneath them. She connected all four members of the family to the line with a quick line down and up.

“Now, we have your whole family here. But is there anyone else important to you that you would like to include?”

Makoto shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her face quickly reddening. “Um, yes, actually. R-Ren Amamiya, my boyfriend. He was born September 15th, 1999.”

Tae smirked, shaking her head. She drew a dotted line out from underneath Makoto, and bringing it over right, and then up. She drew a square directly above the end of the line, writing Ren’s name inside of it.

“Now that we’ve got the structure of the genogram down,” Tae announced, swiveling back towards her desk. She fished out three dray erase markers: green, red, and gray. “I’d like us to start talking about how you would describe your relationships with everyone else in the family.”

She grabbed the markers one at a time, drawing four different kinds of lines. “This one, the two green lines next to each other, represent a close relationship. This is someone who you trust and feel like you can always approach.”

Tae pointed a finger to another green line. This one had two circles in the middle. “This one represents romantic love. I usually don’t throw it in there, but I figured someone may see some use out of it,” She looked to Ren’s name, then Makoto, and winked.

Sae rolled her eyes as Makoto’s face reddened.

“This line,” Tae continued, pointing to a gray-dotted line, “represents distance. This is where there’s considerable tension between people, that makes it difficult to get along and understand one another.”

Makoto glanced at Sae.

Sae glanced at Makoto.

Tae stared at them both.

She cleared her throat, pointing to the final line. It was jagged and red. “And this line, represents a hostile relationship. These relationships are marked be considerable aggression and discord.”

Tae swiveled her chair back towards the sisters, holding the marker out.

“So then, would you care to start us off, Makoto?”

Makoto looked between Tae and the markers. She took them in her hand, stepping up to the whiteboard. She gave herself time to look over each of the names.

Her father.

Sae.

Ren.

Her mother.

Makoto frowned, gently placing her hand next to her mother’s name. It was odd. She had no memories of her, but the thought of not being able to put anything to their relationship felt…wrong. She sighed, letting her hand fall off the board. She uncapped the green marker first; she figured it was best to start off positive.

Makoto drew two green lines between her and her father, and another between her father and her mother. She drew a gray dotted line between her father and Sae. For a moment, she thought she saw Sae bristle out of the corner of her eye. She looked over to Ren’s name. She smiled; a single green line, and two green circles between herself and him. This time, she _heard_ Sae, the sound of the frustrated hiss just loud enough not to ignore.

And then, Makoto finally came upon Sae’s name. The markers twisted around in her hand as her stomach lurched. It felt as though she were pulled between two sides of herself; one, the parts of her that wanted Sae to be there, that wanted birthdays and holidays spent laughing like all the families she’d see walking by outside their apartment window. The other side was nothing but blistering rage. The years of taunts, jeers, abandonment.

Makoto grabbed one of the markers with her free hand. She quickly drew in the space between her circle and Sae’s. She passed all three markers back to Tae before sitting down. She looked at the board. A single, dotted gray line filled the space between the sisters.

Tae examined the board, and then the sisters. Her gaze fell onto Sae.

“Sae, I notice you seem surprised.” Makoto turned to Sae, seeing her mouth slightly open, and her eyes glued to the board.

“I…suppose it’s just odd seeing it written out like that,” she said in a low voice.

_So, Sis feels the same as I do._

**_But does that mean, some part of her hates me, too?_ **

Tae held the markers out to Sae.

“Your turn.”

Sae took them and stood before the board.

* * *

The first mark was simple. Sae drew a jagged red line between her and Amamiya. She heard a sharp intake of breath behind her – Makoto.

But she wasn’t focused on that. Sae took the green marker and made two lines between her and her mother.

And then she paused.

Everything in her seemed to scream at her. Pleading her not to go further. Begging her not to expose a wound she had only barely kept close.

And then she thought of Yasuko’s voice in that boat on the pond.

> _“How can you expect her to understand you, if you keep parts of yourself hidden away from her?”_

Sae took a deep breath. And with a shaky hand, erased the lines Makoto made between the parents. She replaced it with a jagged red line, and another between herself and her father. She added a single, harsh red mark on the line symbolizing their parents’ marriage.

She turned around, finding herself face to face with a wide-eyed Makoto.

“Sis…?”

She took another breath.

And released the fear.

“Makoto, it’s time I told you the truth about our father.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haven't had one of these in a while, but the song that helped inspire me while planning this chapter was "Nobody" by Mitski: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qooWnw5rEcI
> 
> There's a lot to say about this chapter, with how many moving pieces there are. I figure it is probably best to let y'all bring it up, and I can reply in the comments, since I don't quite think there's enough space to talk about it all in a single author's note...😅. 
> 
> In case anyone may be curious, job applications are certainly going! I had an interview recently -- wearing a mask while answering in-depth questions was certainly interesting, lol. 
> 
> Some more fun facts from the last month: 
> 
> #1: I was writing this while watching a Let's Play of Persona 1 and doing my own playthrough of Persona 2: Innocent Sin. Long story short, I loved both, and am currently working on going through Persona 2: Eternal Punishment. Needless to say, there is maybe a 110% chance other P1/P2 characters will pop in (you may have already spotted a couple in this chapter).
> 
> #2: I posted a one-shot, mostly about Haru and Futaba! It's set during the Third Semester, and can be considered to have happened in the timeline leading up to Counseling Justice. You can find it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25791313 . It's part of a short series of one-shots I'll be posting up that are tangentially related to Counseling Justice as a whole. Next one is gonna ideally land sometime during Makoto Niijima Week!
> 
> #3: You can now find me elsewhere at: https://plumsy.carrd.co/  
> My Tumblr is mainly reblogs these days, but my Twitter is a mixture of games, television, social justice, art retweets, a good chunk of Korrasami, and the occasional goofy post of mine. I would not recommend following me there if one or more of these are not to your fancy. 
> 
> #4: Did y'all know that in P5D, Atlus says that Sae apparently passed the bar exam in high school? lmao I'm 100% sure I've accidentally aged Sae up from however old Atlus intends her to be, but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ I've grown fond of nearly 30 year old Sae.
> 
>   
> The past comes to light in Chapter 14: "The Origins of Justice," coming sometime in October! Thanks again for reading, and especially for your patience with the change in the update schedule. I definitely know what it's like to be the reader and have the schedule suddenly shift. I'll try to post a comment with a status update at the start of October with a tentative date for the next chapter to be posted.


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